一
I
他消失在死寂的寒冬：
He disappeared in the dead of winter:
溪流冻结，机场几乎无人，
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
积雪模糊了公共场所的雕像；
And snow disfigured the public statues;
水银柱沉入垂死日子的口中。
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
我们拥有的仪器都同意
What instruments we have agree
他逝世的日子是个寒冷阴暗的日子。
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
远离他的疾病
Far from his illness
狼群继续在常青的森林中奔跑，
The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests,
乡村的河流不受时髦码头的诱惑；
The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays;
哀悼的言辞
By mourning tongues
将诗人的死亡与他的诗篇分开。
The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
但对于他，这是他自己最后一个下午，
But for him it was his last afternoon as himself,
一个有着护士和传言的下午；
An afternoon of nurses and rumours;
他身体的各省全部叛乱，
The provinces of his body revolted,
他心灵的广场空空荡荡，
The squares of his mind were empty,
寂静侵袭郊区，
Silence invaded the suburbs,
他的感觉之流截断；他成了自己的仰慕者。
The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.
此刻他被播散在一百个城市，
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities
完全交托给了陌生的爱戴，
And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,
在另一种树林中寻找他的幸福，
To find his happiness in another kind of wood
在异域的良心准则下受惩罚。
And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.
死人的言辞
The words of a dead man
在活人的内心得到修饰。
Are modified in the guts of the living.
但在明天的重要和喧嚣中，
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow
当经纪们在交易所大厅咆哮如野兽，
When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse,
穷人遭受他们已经颇为习惯的痛苦，
And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed,
而每个人在自己的躯壳里几乎相信自己是自由的，
And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom,
将会有千百个人想到这个日子
A few thousand will think of this day
像某个人想到某一天做了某件不大寻常的事。
As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.
我们拥有的仪器都同意
他逝世的日子是个寒冷阴暗的日子。
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
二
II
你像我们一样傻；你的天才却比这一切长久：
有钱女人的教区，肉体的腐烂，
You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:
你自己。疯狂的爱尔兰把你痛成诗歌，
The parish of rich women, physical decay,
现在爱尔兰的疯狂和气候依然没变，
Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
因为诗歌没有使任何事情发生：它留存
Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,
在它生长的山谷，绝不会有任何
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
官吏想涉足；它流向南方，
In the valley of its making where executives
从孤立的牧场和忙碌的悲伤，
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
从我们相信并葬身的原始城镇；它留存，
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
一种发生的方式，一张口。
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.
三
III
土地啊，请接纳一位贵宾：
威廉·叶芝躺下来休息。
Earth, receive an honoured guest:
让这艘爱尔兰船进港，
William Yeats is laid to rest.
它已卸空了它的诗篇。
Let the Irish vessel lie
Emptied of its poetry.
时间无法容忍
勇敢和清白的人，
In the nightmare of the dark
并在一星期里漠视
All the dogs of Europe bark,
一个美丽的身体，
And the living nations wait,
Each sequestered in its hate;
却崇拜语言和原谅
每一个它赖以生存的人；
Intellectual disgrace
宽恕懦怯、自负，
Stares from every human face,
把荣耀献在他们脚下。
And the seas of pity lie
Locked and frozen in each eye.
时间以这种怪异的藉口
原谅吉卜林和他的观点，
Follow, poet, follow right
还将原谅保罗·克罗岱，
To the bottom of the night,
原谅他，因为他写得精彩。
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice;
在黑暗的恶梦中，
全欧洲的狗都在狂吠，
With the farming of a verse
尚存的国家都在等待，
Make a vineyard of the curse,
为各自的仇恨所囿；
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;
知识蒙受的羞耻
显露在每张面孔，
In the deserts of the heart
同情的海洋深锁
Let the healing fountain start,
和冻结在每只眼睛里。
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.
跟上，诗人，跟上，
跟到那黑夜的底端，
你那从容的声音
仍将使我们欢欣；
继续耕种诗篇
把诅咒变成葡萄园，
在痛苦的狂热中
歌唱人类的不成功。
在心灵的荒漠中
让治疗的泉水喷涌，
在他那时代的牢狱里
教自由人都懂得赞美。