Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

　　写在教堂墓地的挽歌

　　Thomas Gray

　　托马斯 格雷

　　The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

　　黄昏时分敲响了晚钟，

　　The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea.

　　牛羊在草地上鸣叫归笼。

　　The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

　　农夫疲惫地走在回家的路上，

　　And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

　　把整个世界留给了黄昏与我。

　　Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,

　　大地微光正慢慢消尽，

　　And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

　　四周肃穆宁静。

　　Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,

　　只有甲壳虫在空中飞舞，

　　And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

　　昏沉的铃声催眠着远处的羊栏。

　　Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower

　　还有那长满青藤的塔楼上，

　　The moping owl does to the moon complain

　　一只忧郁的猫头鹰对月亮发着怨气。

　　Of such,as wandering near her secret bower,

　　说有人走近了她秘密的闺房，

　　Molest her ancient solitary reign.

　　扰乱了她那悠久而幽静的领地。

　　Beneath those rugged elms,that yew tree's shade,

　　峥嵘的榆树底下，紫杉的绿荫里，

　　Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,

　　累累荒冢在绿草中隆起。

　　Each in his narrow cell forever laid,

　　个个都长眠在小小的幽室中，

　　The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

　　小村里粗鄙的父老在那里安睡。

　　The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,

　　芬芳的晨风在轻唤，

　　The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,

　　茅屋的燕语在呢喃。

　　The cock,s shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,

　　号角回荡，雄鸡高啼，

　　No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed

　　再也不能把他们唤出九泉。

　　For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,

　　熊熊的灶火不再为他们而燃烧，

　　Or busy housewife ply her evening care;

　　主妇也不再为他们做晚饭。

　　No children run to lisp their sire’s return,

　　孩子们也不再迎接父亲的到来，

　　Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

　　也不会再趴到父亲的膝上索吻撒娇。

　　Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield,

　　过去他们常拿镰刀去收割庄稼，

　　Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;

　　顽梗的泥板让他们犁出了垄沟;

　　How jocund did they drive their team afield!

　　一棵棵树木在他们刀下放倒，

　　How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

　　赶着牲口下地，他们是何等的欣喜!

　　Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,

　　有抱负的人别嘲笑他们的辛苦，

　　Their homely joys,and destiny obscure ;

　　他们的欢乐太家常，他们的命运太寻常。

　　Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,

　　高贵的人也勿对他们冷笑，

　　The short and simple annals of the poor.

　　来听听穷人们简约的"家国兴亡”。

　　The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

　　无论什么炫耀的功勋与权势，

　　And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,

　　无论美丑，无论贫富，

　　Awaits alike the inevitable hour.

　　大限之时准不一样。

　　The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

　　极度荣光也是通往坟墓。