Let us go then, you and I,

那么就让咱们去吧，我和你，

When the evening is spread out against the sky

趁黄昏正铺展在天际

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

像一个上了麻醉的病人躺在手术台上：

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

让咱们去吧，穿过几条行人稀少的大街小巷，

The muttering retreats

到那临时过夜的廉价小客店

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

到满地是锯屑和牡蛎壳的饭店

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

那夜夜纷扰

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

人声哺杂的去处：

Of insidious intent

街巷接着街巷像一场用心诡诈冗长乏味的辩论

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

要把你引向一个令人困惑的问题……

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

“那是什么？”哦，你别问，

Let us go and make our visit.

让咱们去作一次访问。

In the room the women come and go

房间里女人们来往穿梭

Talking of Michelangelo.

谈论着米开朗琪罗。

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

黄色的雾在窗玻璃上蹭着它的背，

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

黄色的烟在窗玻璃上擦着鼻子和嘴，

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

把舌头舔进黄昏的各个角落，

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

在阴沟里的水塘上面流连，

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

让烟肉里飘落的烟炱跌个仰面朝天，

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

悄悄溜过平台，猛地一跳，

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

眼见这是个温柔的十月之夜，

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

围着房子绕了一圈，便沉入了睡乡。

And indeed there will be time

准会有足够的时间

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

让黄色的烟雾溜过大街

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

在窗玻璃上蹭它的背脊；

There will be time, there will be time

准会有时间，准会有时间

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

准备好一副面孔去会见你要会见的那些面孔

There will be time to murder and create,

会有时间去谋杀和创造，

And time for all the works and days of hands

也会有时间让那些在你的盘子里

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

拿起或放上一个疑问的庄稼汉干活和过节；

Time for you and time for me,

有你的时间，也有我的时间，

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

还有让你犹豫不决一百次的时间，

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

一百次想入非非又作出修正的时间，

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

在你吃一片烤面包和喝茶之前。

In the room the women come and go

房间里女人们来往穿梭

Talking of Michelangelo.

谈论着米开朗琪罗。

And indeed there will be time

准会有时间

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

让你怀疑，“我敢吗？”“我敢吗？”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

会有时间掉转身子走下楼去，

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

带着我头发中央那块秃斑——

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

(他们准会说：“瞧他的头发变得多稀！")

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

我的大礼服，我的硬领紧紧地顶着我的下巴，

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

我的领带又贵重又朴素，但只凭一根简朴的别针表明

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

        它的存在——

Do I dare

(他们准会说：“可是他的胳膊和大腿多细！”)

Disturb the universe?

我敢惊扰

In a minute there is time

这个世界吗？

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

一分钟里有足够的时间

作出一分钟就会变更的决定和修正。

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

因为我对它们这一切早已熟悉，熟悉它们这一切——

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

熟悉这些黄昏，晨朝和午后，

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

我用咖啡勺把我的生命作了分配；

Beneath the music from a farther room.

我知道从远远的那个房间传来的音乐下面

               So how should I presume?

人语声随着那渐渐消沉的节奏里正渐趋消寂。

								所以我还该怎样猜测？

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

我早已领教过那些眼睛，领教过所有那些眼睛——

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

那些说一句客套话盯着你看的眼睛，

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

等我被客套制住了，趴倒在一根别针尖上，

Then how should I begin

等我被别针钉住了，在墙上挣扎扭动，

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

那我该怎样开始

               And how should I presume?

把我的日子和习惯的残余一股脑儿吐个干净？

								我还该怎样猜测？

And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

我早已熟悉那些臂膀，熟悉它们一切——

(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)

那戴着手镯的臂膀，赤裸而白皙

Is it perfume from a dress

（可以是在灯光下，长满了一层浅棕色的软毛！）

That makes me so digress?

是衣衫上飘来的芳香

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

弄得我这样离题万里？

               And should I then presume?

那些搁在桌边，或者裹着围巾的臂膀。

               And how should I begin?

								我还该怎样猜测？

								我又该怎样开始？

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

要我说，在黄昏时分我已走遍了小街狭巷

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

也观看了那些穿着衬衫在窗口探出身子的孤独的男人

从他们的烟斗里冒出的烟？……

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

我真该变成一副粗粝的爪子

急匆匆穿过静寂的海底。

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

而且这午后，这黄昏，睡得多安静！

Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,

让修长的手指抚慰着，

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

睡熟了……倦极了……或者是在装病，

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

张开身子躺在地板上，在这儿，在你和我身边。

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

喝过茶，吃过糕点和冰淇淋，难道我就会

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

有气力把这瞬间推向一个转折点？

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

尽管我哭过了也斋戒过了，哭过了也祈祷过了，

I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;

尽管我已经看见我的头颅（稍微有点秃了）给放在盘子里端了进来，

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

我可不是先知——这一点在这儿无关紧要；

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

我已经看到我的伟大的时刻在忽隐忽现地闪烁，

And in short, I was afraid.

我也看到了那永恒的男仆拿着我的上衣在暗暗窃笑，

总之一句话，我害怕。

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

那么到底值不值得，

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

喝过了酒，吃过了果酱和茶以后，

Would it have been worth while,

在杯盘之间，在人们对你和我的闲聊之间，

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

值不值得带着微笑

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

把这件事就此一口啃掉，

To roll it towards some overwhelming question,

把这世界捏成一个球

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

然后把它滚向一个使人窘困的问题，

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

说：“我是拉撒路，从死去的人们那儿来，

If one, settling a pillow by her head

我回来告诉你们一切，我要告诉你们一切。”——

               Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

要是有个人，她一面把枕头往头边一塞，

               That is not it, at all.”

								却说：“那压根儿不是我的意思。

								不是那个意思，压根儿不是。”

And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,

到底值不值得这样，

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

值不值得为此破费工夫，

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

经过多少次日落，多少个庭园和多少微雨迷濛的大街小巷，

And this, and so much more?—

经过多少部小说，多少只茶杯和多少条裙裾曳过地板以后——

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

还要来这一套，还有那么多吗？——

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

要说出我真想说的意思根本不可能！

Would it have been worth while

可是仿佛有一盏幻灯把神经变成图案投射在屏幕上：

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

这值不值得破费工夫

And turning toward the window, should say:

如果有个人，放上一只枕头或者甩下一条头巾，

               “That is not it at all,

一面向窗子转过身去，却说：

               That is not what I meant, at all.”

								“那压根儿不是，

								那压根儿不是我的意思。”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

不！我不是哈姆雷特王子，也不想成为王子；

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

我是侍从大臣，一个适合给帝王公侯出游

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

炫耀威风的人，发一两次脾气，

Deferential, glad to be of use,

向王子提点忠告；毫无疑问，是个随和的爪牙，

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

恭顺谦虚，以对别人有用而感到高兴，

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

精明，细心而又慎微谨小；

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

满脑子高超的判断，只是稍微有些迟钝；

Almost, at times, the Fool.

有时，的确，近乎荒唐可笑——

有时，差不多是个丑角。

I grow old ... I grow old ...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

我老啦……我老啦……

我要穿裤腿卷上翻边的裤子。

Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

要不要把我的头发在后脑分开？我敢吃下一只桃子吗？

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

我要穿上白法兰绒的长裤，在海滨散步。

我听到美人鱼在歌唱，一个对着一个唱。

I do not think that they will sing to me.

我可不想她们会对我歌唱。

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

我看见她们乘着波浪向大海驰去

When the wind blows the water white and black.

一面梳理着风中向后纷披的波浪的白发

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

当大风乍起把海水吹成黑白相间的时候。

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

我们因海底的姑娘而逗留在大海的闺房

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

她们戴着红的和棕色的海草编成的花环

直到人类的声音把我们唤醒，我们便溺水而亡。