Ⅰ
I
他在冬天的肃杀中消失了：
He disappeared in the dead of winter:
溪流已经结冰，飞机场几近荒废，
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
雪在损伤着公共场所的雕像；
And snow disfigured the public statues;
水银柱陷进这死亡一天的口中。
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
我们所有的仪表都同意
What instruments we have agree
他死的那天黑暗而又冷酷。
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
远离他的疾病
Far from his illness
狼群窜行在常绿的森林，
The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests,
佃户的河流经受住时髦码头的诱惑；
The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays;
通过哀悼的舌头
By mourning tongues
诗人之死被隔离在他的诗句之外。
The death of the poet was kept from his poems.
但是对他而言，那是他作为自己的最后的下午，
But for him it was his last afternoon as himself,
一个行动着护士和流言的下午；
An afternoon of nurses and rumours;
他躯体的各省都叛变了，
The provinces of his body revolted,
他意识的广场显得空旷，
The squares of his mind were empty,
沉默侵扰着郊区，
Silence invaded the suburbs,
他的知觉之流衰退了；他成了自己的景仰者。
The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.
现在他被分散到一百座城市
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities
被整个地交付给新奇的友爱，
And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,
发现他的快乐在另外的树木里生长
To find his happiness in another kind of wood
经受着一种外来的道德代码的惩罚。
And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.
一个死去的人的话语
The words of a dead man
在活着的人的腑脏中遭到修改。
Are modified in the guts of the living.
但是在明天的重要性和喧嚣中
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow
当经纪人在交易所的地板上像牲畜一样吼叫，
When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse,
当穷人们还在经受着他们习以为常的苦难，
And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed,
当人人都在自我的牢笼中对自由充满信心，
And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom,
会有大约一千人想到这一天
A few thousand will think of this day
就像有人在这天做过不同寻常的事情。
As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.
我们所有的仪表都同意
What instruments we have agree
他死的那天黑暗而又冷酷。
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
Ⅱ
II
你像我们一样愚蠢；你的天赋却让一切幸存：
You were silly like us; your gift survived it all:
贵妇们的教堂，肉体的腐朽，
The parish of rich women, physical decay,
以及你本身。疯狂的爱尔兰深深地伤害着你的诗。
Yourself. Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.
现在，爱尔兰的疯狂和她的天气一如既往，
Now Ireland has her madness and her weather still,
因为诗不能使任何事情发生：它幸存于
For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
自己制造的深谷，官员们
In the valley of its making where executives
决不会到那里去干预，它从孤立和
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
忙于悲伤的农场流向南方，
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
它是我们曾经信赖并将死于其中的原始的城；
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
它幸免于难，是事件的一种方式，一个出口。
A way of happening, a mouth.
Ⅲ
III
大地啊，请接纳一位尊贵的客人：
Earth, receive an honoured guest:
威廉.叶芝躺下安息了。
William Yeats is laid to rest.
让这爱尔兰的器皿躺下
Let the Irish vessel lie
他全部的诗情都早已耗尽。
Emptied of its poetry.
在黑暗的梦魇中
In the nightmare of the dark
欧罗巴的狗们叫嚣，
All the dogs of Europe bark,
现存的国家还在等待，
And the living nations wait,
等待在各自的憎恨中退隐；
Each sequestered in its hate;
智力所受的耻辱
Intellectual disgrace
从每一张人类的脸上显现，
Stares from every human face,
同情的海洋安息了
And the seas of pity lie
在每一只眼睛里上锁并冻结。
Locked and frozen in each eye.
诗人啊，要紧紧跟随
Follow, poet, follow right
直到黑夜的渊底，
To the bottom of the night,
用你不受拘束的嗓音
With your unconstraining voice
依旧来说服我们要心怀喜悦；
Still persuade us to rejoice;
凭借着诗句的耕作
With the farming of a verse
把诅咒变成一座葡萄园，
Make a vineyard of the curse,
在苦难的狂欢中
Sing of human unsuccess
唱着人类的不成功之歌；
In a rapture of distress;
在心灵的沙漠里
In the deserts of the heart
让疗救的泉水开始喷涌，
Let the healing fountain start,
在他的岁月的牢狱
In the prison of his days
教导自由的人们如何去颂扬。
Teach the free man how to praise.