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      1. 中國古語詩詞之葬花詞翻譯

        時間:2020-11-11 09:29:27 翻譯資格 我要投稿

        中國古語詩詞之葬花詞翻譯

          引導語:英語口譯練習之中國古語詩詞,由應屆畢業生培訓網整理而成,謝謝您的.閱讀。

        中國古語詩詞之葬花詞翻譯

          一、英語口譯練習:葬花詞

          原文

          花謝花飛花滿天,紅消香斷有誰憐? (又一說花謝花飛飛滿天)

          游絲軟系飄香榭,落絮輕沾撲繡簾。

          閨中女兒惜春暮,愁緒滿懷無處訴;(又作愁緒滿懷無釋處)

          手把花鋤出繡閨,忍踏落花來復去。

          柳絲榆莢自芳菲,不管桃飄與李飛;

          桃李明年能再發,明年閨中知有誰?

          三月香巢已壘成,梁間燕子太無情。

          明年花發雖可啄,卻不道人去梁空巢也傾。

          一年三百六十日,風刀霜劍嚴相逼;

          明媚鮮妍能幾時,一朝漂泊難尋覓。

          花開易見落難尋,階前愁殺(又作悶殺)葬花人;

          獨倚花鋤淚暗灑,灑上空枝見血痕。

          杜鵑無語正黃昏,荷鋤歸去掩重門;

          青燈照壁人初睡,冷雨敲窗被未溫。

          怪奴底事倍傷神?半為憐春半惱春:

          憐春忽至惱忽去,至又無言去不聞。

          昨宵庭外悲歌發,知是花魂與鳥魂?

          花魂鳥魂總難留,鳥自無言花自羞;

          愿奴脅下生雙翼,隨花飛到天盡頭。

          天盡頭,何處有香丘?

          未若錦囊收艷骨,一抔凈土掩風流;

          質本潔來還潔去,強于污淖陷渠溝。

          爾今死去儂收葬,未卜儂身何日喪?

          儂今葬花人笑癡,他年葬儂知是誰?

          試看春殘花漸落,便是紅顏老死時;

          一朝春盡紅顏老,花落人亡兩不知!

          《葬花詞》英譯一:

          林語堂的譯本

          Taiyu Predicting Her Own Death

          Tsao Shuehchin

          Fly, fly ye faded and broken dreams

          Of fragrance, for the spring is gone!

          Behold the gossamer entwine the screens,

          And wandering catkins kiss the stone.

          Here comes the maiden from out her chamber door,

          Whose secret no one shall share.

          She gathers the trodden blossoms lingeringly,

          And says to them her votive prayer.

          I smell the scent of elm seeds and the willow

          Where once did blush the peach and pear.

          When next they bloom in their new-made spring dress,

          She may be gone—no one knows where.

          Sweet are the swallow’s nests, whose labors of love

          This spring these eaves and girders grace.

          Next year they’ll come and see the mistress’s home

          To find her gone—without a trace.

          The frost and cutting wind in whirling cycle

          Hurtle through the seasons’ round.

          How but a while ago these flowers did smile

          Then quietly vanished without a sound.

          With stifled sobs she picks the wilted blooms,

          And stands transfixed and dazed hourlong,

          And sheds her scalding tears which shall be changed

          Into the cuckoo’s heartbreak song.

          But the cuckoo is silent in the twilight eve,

          And she returns to her lone home.

          The flickering lamp casts shadows upon the wall,

          And night rain patters, bed unwarmed.

          Oh, ask not why and wherefore she is grieved.

          For loving spring, her heart is torn

          That it should have arrived without warning,

          And just as noiselessly is gone.

          I heard last night a mournful wail and I knew

          It was the souls of parting flowers,

          Harried and reluctant and all in a rush,

          Bidding their last farewell hours.

          Oh, that I might take winged flight to heaven,

          With these beauties in my trust!

          ‘Twere better I buried you undefiled,

          Than let them trample you to dust.

          Now I take the shovel and bury your scented breath,

          A-wondering when my turn shall be.

          Let me be silly and weep atop your grave,

          For next year who will bury me?

          Oh, look upon these tender, fragile beauties,

          Of perfumed flesh and bone and hair.

          The admirer shan’t be there when her time is up,

          And the admired shall no longer care!

          林語堂簡介:

          林語堂(1895---1976年),出生于福建龍溪(現福建省漳州市平和縣坂仔鎮)的一個基督教家庭,父親為教會牧師。原名和樂,后改玉堂,又改語堂。筆名毛驢、宰予、豈青等,中國當代著名學者、文學家、語言學家。早年留學國外,回國后在北京大學等著名大學任教,1966年定居臺灣,一生著述頗豐。

          《葬花詞》英譯二:

          楊憲益、戴乃迭的譯文

          As blossoms fade and fly across the sky,

          Who pities the faded red, the scent that has been?

          Softly the gossamer floats over spring pavilions,

          Gently the willow fluff wafts to the embroidered screen.

          A girl in her chamber mourns the passing of spring,

          No relief from anxiety her poor heart knows;

          Hoe in hand she steps through her portal,

          Loath to tread on the blossom as she comes and goes.

          Willows and elms, fresh and verdant,

          Care not if peach and plum blossom drift away;

          Next year the peach and plum blossom will bloom again,

          But her chamber may stand empty on that day.

          By the third month the scented nests are built,

          But the swallows on the beam are heartless all;

          Next year, though once again you may peck the buds,

          From the beam of an empty room your nest will fall.

          Each year for three hundred and sixty days

          The cutting wind and biting frost contend.

          How long can beauty flower fresh and fair?

          In a single day wind can whirl it to its end.

          Fallen, the brightest blooms are hard to find;

          With aching heart their grave-digger comes now

          Alone, her hoe in hand, her secret tears

          Falling like drops of blood on each bare bough.

          Dusk falls and the cuckoo is silent;

          Her hoe brought back, the lodge is locked and still;

          A green lamp lights the wall as sleep enfolds her,

          Cold rain pelts the casement and her quilt is chill.

          What causes my two-fold anguish?

          Love for spring and resentment of spring;

          For suddenly it comes and suddenly goes,

          Its arrival unheralded, noiseless its departing.

          Last night from the courtyard floated a sad song--

          Was it the soul of blossom, the soul of birds,

          Hard to detain, the soul of blossom or birds?

          For blossoms have no assurance, birds no words.

          I long to take wing and fly

          With the flowers to earth’s uttermost bound;

          And yet at earth’s uttermost bound

          Where can a fragrant burial mound be found?

          Better shroud the fair petals in silk

          With clean earth for their outer attire;

          For pure you came and pure shall you go,

          Not sinking into some foul ditch or mire.

          Now you are dead I come to bury you;

          None has divined the day when I shall die;

          Men laugh at my folly in burying fallen flowers,

          But who will bury me when dead I lie?

          See, when spring draws to a close and flowers fall,

          This is the season when beauty must ebb and fade;

          The day that spring takes wing and beauty fades

          Who will care for the fallen blossom or dead maid?

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