让我们走吧，你和我，

Let us go then, you and I,

此时黄昏正朝天铺开

When the evening is spread out against the sky

像手术台上一个麻醉过去的病人；

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

走吧,穿过某些行人稀少的街道，

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

那些人声嗡嗡然的投宿处

The muttering retreats

不眠夜在只住一宿的旅舍里度过

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

还有到处牡蛎壳的那些满地锯木屑的小饭馆；

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

街道一条接一条就像用意险恶的

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

一场冗长辩论

Of insidious intent

把你引向一个压倒一切的问题……

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

啊，不要问，“指的是什么？”

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

走吧，我们去拜访。

Let us go and make our visit.

在屋里妇女们来来去去

In the room the women come and go

谈论着米开朗琪罗。

Talking of Michelangelo.

那黄雾的背脊摩擦着窗玻璃，

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

那黄雾的口鼻摩擦着窗玻璃，

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

它用舌尖舔黄昏的每个角落，

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

在排水沟的潭潭上徘徊不去

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

让烟囱里掉下的煤灰落在它背脊上

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

偷偷溜过阳台，突然纵身一跃，

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

又注意到这是个柔和的十月夜晚，

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

在房子附近蜷起身子睡着了。

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

而且实在还有时间

And indeed there will be time

让沿着背脊滑行的黄烟

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

用背脊摩擦窗玻璃；

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

还有时间，还有时间

There will be time, there will be time

为接待你将要照面的脸孔准备好一副脸；

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

还有时间去扼杀与创造，

There will be time to murder and create,

还有时间用手完成所有事业

And time for all the works and days of hands

在你的盘子上拾起并丢下一个问题；

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

你有时间我也有时间，

Time for you and time for me,

还有时间犹疑一百遍，

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

看见并修改一百种想象中的景象；

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

在取用一片烤面包和茶水之前。

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

在屋里妇女们来来去去，

In the room the women come and go

谈论着米开朗琪罗。

Talking of Michelangelo.

而且实在还有时间

And indeed there will be time

再考虑一下，“我有无勇气？”又是，“我有无勇气？”

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

还有时间转身走下楼梯，

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

带着我头发中心的那个秃顶——

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

［她们会说：“他的头发真是愈来愈稀薄了！”］

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

我早上穿的外套，我的硬领笔挺地托住下巴，

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

我的领带华丽又绝不刺眼，但为一只朴素的别针固定住——

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

［她们会说：“他的胳膊真的瘦了！”］

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

我有无勇气

Do I dare

打扰这个宇宙？

Disturb the universe?

一分钟之内还有时间

In a minute there is time

作出决定与修改也可在一分钟内转向反面。

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

因为我已经熟悉这一切，熟悉这一切——

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

熟悉了那些黄昏，早晨，下午，

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

我曾用咖啡勺衡量过我的生活；

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

我从远远那房间的音乐掩盖下面

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

熟悉了那些微弱下去的人声逐渐消失。

Beneath the music from a farther room.

　　因此我该怎样大胆行动？

               So how should I presume?

而且我已经熟悉了这些眼睛，都熟悉了——

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

那些用公式化了的片语盯住你看的眼睛，

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

而我在被公式化时，狼狈地趴伏在一只别针上，

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

我被别针别住，在墙上挣扎，

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

那我又该怎样开始

Then how should I begin

吐尽我生活与举止的全部烟蒂头？

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

　　我又该怎样大胆行动？

               And how should I presume?

我已经熟悉这些胳膊，都熟悉了——

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

戴镯子的，雪白的，赤裸的胳膊，

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

［但是在灯光下，一层浅褐色的茸毛！］

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

是衣裙上的香味

Is it perfume from a dress

使我说走了题？

That makes me so digress?

放在桌上或是裹在披肩里的胳膊。

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

　　我就该大胆行动了吗？

               And should I then presume?

　　我又该怎样开始呢？

               And how should I begin?

该不该说我在薄暮时经过狭窄的街道

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

望着寂寞的只穿着衬衫的男人们在探身窗外时

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

他们烟斗里往上冒的那烟？……

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

我应该是一对褴褛的钳子

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

慌张地爬过沉寂的海洋那样的地板。

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

而下午，黄昏，睡得又是多么安详！

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

被纤长的手指安抚过，

Smoothed by long fingers,

睡着了……困倦地……或者它在装病，

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

卧倒在地板上，在你我身旁。

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

我该不该在饮过茶吃过蛋糕与冰点之后，

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

鼓起勇气把当前硬逼到紧要关头？

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

但是我虽曾又哭泣又禁食，又哭泣又祈祷，

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

虽然我见过我的头颅［稍有点秃顶］被放进盘里端了进来，

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

我不是先知——这也没有什么了不起；

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

我曾见我成为伟大的那一时刻一闪而灭，

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

我也曾见过那永远站着的侍者，举着我的大衣，吃吃而笑，

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

一句话，我害怕。

And in short, I was afraid.

而且到底这是不是值得，

And would it have been worth it, after all,

在这些杯子，橘子酱，茶水之后，

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

在动用这些瓷器，在议论有关你我的同时，

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

这是不是就值得，

Would it have been worth while,

用微笑来接下这桩事情，

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

把宇宙压缩成一个球

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

让它朝某个压倒一切的问题滚去，

To roll it towards some overwhelming question,

并且说：“我是拉撒路，从死人那里来，

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

我回来把一切都告诉你们，我会把一切都告诉你们”——

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

如果这个人在她身边把枕头枕好，

If one, settling a pillow by her head

　　并且说：“我完全不是这个意思。

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

　　不是，完全不是。”

               That is not it, at all.”

而且到底这是不是值得，

And would it have been worth it, after all,

这是不是值得，

Would it have been worth while,

在多少次日落，多少次前院和那些洒过水的街道之后，

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

在读过这些小说之后，饮过茶之后，在扫过地板的这些长裙之后——

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

这，还有许多许多别的？

And this, and so much more?—

不可能说清我究竟是什么意思！

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

但正像一盏幻灯把神经的图案投射在银幕上：

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

这是不是值得

Would it have been worth while

假如这人把枕头枕好或脱掉披肩，

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

然后把头对着窗子那边，而且说，

And turning toward the window, should say:

　　“完全不是这样，

               “That is not it at all,

　　那完全不是我的用意。”

               That is not what I meant, at all.”

不！我不是王子哈姆雷特，天生就不够格；

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

我是个侍臣，一个能在需要推一把时

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

起点作用，创造一个两个新局面，

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

给王子出点主意，无疑是个顺从的工具，

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

毕恭毕敬，甘心供人使用，

Deferential, glad to be of use,

机敏，谨慎，而且小心翼翼；

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

卓有高见，但有点不痛不痒；

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

其实有时，有点儿可笑——

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

有时几乎是个“丑角”。

Almost, at times, the Fool.

我越发见老了……我见老了……

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

我将把我的裤边卷起。

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

我要不要把头发朝后分开？我有没有勇气吃一个桃子？

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

我将穿上白色法兰绒裤子，在海滩上漫步。

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

我听见美人鱼们在彼此面对面歌唱

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

我想她们不会是为我而歌唱。

I do not think that they will sing to me.

我曾见她们乘着浪头驶向海洋

梳理着吹回海岸的波浪的白发，

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

在风儿把海水吹得又黑又白的时候。

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

我们在大海的一间间房间里徘徊

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

是海娃们用红色褐色的海草打扮起来的

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

直到人声把我们唤醒，于是我们淹死。

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.