Can we believe—by an effort

我们能否相信——努力

comfort our hearts:

安慰我们的心：

it is not waste all this,

所有这些被放置在此处的，

not placed here in disgust,

并不恶心的垃圾，

street after street,

街道连着街道，

each patterned alike,

彼此相似，

no grace to lighten

没有一种优雅

a single house of the hundred

附着于这拥挤的房屋，

crowded into one garden-space.

使其变成花园般的美景。

Crowded—can we believe,

拥挤——我们难以相信，

not in utter disgust,

并非厌恶地，

in ironical play—

嘲讽地——

but the maker of cities grew faint

而是城市的制造者，对寺庙，

with the beauty of temple

对寺庙前的空旷地，

and space before temple,

对完美的拱形和拱形门，

arch upon perfect arch,

对那些柱子，那些延伸到

of pillars and corridors that led out

奇异院落和门庭的长廊，

to strange court-yards and porches

对所有这些美，丧失了感觉。

where sun-light stamped

那里，阳光

hyacinth-shadows

将风信子黑色的影子

black on the pavement.

印在小径上。

That the maker of cities grew faint

城市的建造者，

with the splendour of palaces,

对宫殿的辉煌，

paused while the incense-flowers

对那片刻的宁静——当芳香的花

from the incense-trees

从树上

dropped on the marble-walk,

飘落于大理石地面时——

thought anew, fashioned this—

对新的思想，创造形式，丧失了感觉。

street after street alike.

街道连着街道，彼此相似。

For alas,

因为，唉，

he had crowded the city so full

他已经将城市挤得那么满，

that men could not grasp beauty,

人们无法抓住美，

beauty was over them,

美越过他们，

through them, about them,

穿过他们，与他们擦身而过，

no crevice unpacked with the honey,

没有缝隙可以释放

rare, measureless.

珍贵并无限的蜜。

So he built a new city,

因此他建造了一个新的城市，

ah can we believe, not ironically

我，我们能否相信，并非嘲讽地，

but for new splendour

相信新的辉煌被建造，

constructed new people

新的人

to lift through slow growth

在缓慢中生长，

to a beauty unrivalled yet—

变成一种至高无上的美——

and created new cells,

新的蜂房被建造，

hideous first, hideous now—

最初是丑陋的，现在仍是丑陋的——

spread larve across them,

让幼虫在其中繁殖，

not honey but seething life.

没有蜜，只有沸腾的生活。

And in these dark cells,

在这些黑暗的蜂房中，

packed street after street,

堆积着一条又一条街道，

souls live, hideous yet—

灵魂居住其中，也是丑陋的——

O disfigured, defaced,

哦，被扭曲，被损毁，

with no trace of the beauty

丝毫不见被人们轻轻供奉的

men once held so light.

美的踪迹。

Can we think a few old cells

我们能否相信，一些古老的蜂房

were left—we are left—

被留下——我们被留下——

grains of honey,

蜜的颗粒，

old dust of stray pollen

迷失的、古老的花粉，

dull on our torn wings,

在我们被撕裂的翅膀上隐约闪现，

we are left to recall the old streets?

我们被留下来，回忆古老的街道？

Is our task the less sweet

莫非我们注定只有更稀薄的甜蜜，

that the larvae still sleep in their cells?

而幼虫仍然沉睡在他们的蜂房之中？

Or crawl out to attack our frail strength:

或者爬出来攻击我们的虚弱：

You are useless. We live.

你是无用的。而我们活着。

We await great events.

我们等待着伟大的一刻，

We are spread through this earth.

我们在这个地球繁殖。

We protect our strong race.

我们延续我们强大的种族。

You are useless.

你们是无用的。

Your cell takes the place

你们的细胞取代了我们

of our young future strength.

未来的年轻的力。

Though they sleep or wake to torment

他们睡着或者醒来，折磨

and wish to displace our old cells—

并妄图取代我们古老的蜂房——

thin rare gold—

珍贵的黄金——

that their larve grow fat—

他们的幼虫肥胖——

is our task the less sweet?

但我们是否注定只有更稀薄的甜蜜？

Though we wander about,

虽然我们漫游在这垃圾场，

find no honey of flowers in this waste,

没有找到花蜜，

is our task the less sweet—

但我们是否注定只有更稀薄的甜蜜——

who recall the old splendour,

注定只能回忆古老的辉煌，

await the new beauty of cities?

期待城市新的美？

The city is peopled

城市里

with spirits, not ghosts, O my love:

挤满了人的精神，而非幽灵，哦，我的爱：

Though they crowded between

虽然他们挤在我们之间，

and usurped the kiss of my mouth

篡夺我唇上的吻，

their breath was your gift,

他们的呼吸是你的礼物，

their beauty, your life.

他们的美，是你的生命。