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Nov 17 2020

一个比较乱来的翻译。

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST
雪夜林中,一个旅人
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
我想我知道那是谁的树林
他的屋子就在不远的村落
他不会知道我驻足在这里
等待着他的树梢落满白雪

我的小马一定会感到疑惑
为我停留在这荒僻的郊所
在幽阒的深林和冰湖之间
在一年中至暗的这个时刻

他摇摇头唤醒颈上的铃铛
问这是否是我弄错了什么
这里明明只有轻盈的声响
有风卷着雪花从耳畔飞过

哎,多么可爱而幽深的林子
只我尚有需要遵守的承诺
还有一段路得在长眠前走过
还有一段路得在长眠前走过

听说朋友要尝试翻译的时候就很心动,但觉得麻烦没有参与,直到他凑了几个版本让我排序——这怎么能让人不手痒呢。

我很喜欢这首诗隐晦的风味,但显然我是翻译砸了。连着熬了两天的脑子不太灵光,只能快快地截取了自己的最初印象,懒得耗费过多的心思去琢磨意境和用词,还因为个人的强迫症尽是些凑字数的句子(叹气

转给抽抽看的时候,她说,巴别塔永远不会建成了。

Essay
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