Elegy
----Written in a Country Churchyard

Thomas Gray (1716-1771)

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me.


Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,

And all the air a solemn stillness holds,

Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,

And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds1;


Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower

The moping owl does to the moon complain

Of such, as wandering near her secret bower,

Molest her ancient solitary reign.


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

Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,

Each in his narrow cell forever laid,

The rude2 forefathers of the hamlet sleep.


The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,

The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,

The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn3,

No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.


For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,

Or busy housewife ply her evening care;

No children run to lisp their sire's return,

Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.


Oft4 did the harvest to their sickle yield,

Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke5;

How jocund did they drive their team afield!

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!


Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,

Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;

Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile

The short and simple annals of the poor.


The boast of heraldry6, the pomp of power,

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

Awaits alike th' inevitable hour.

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
 

注释：
1 羊栏。这里指关进羊栏的羊群。

2 untaught，没有受过教育的。

3 hunter's horn，猎人的号角。

4 = often

5 stubborn glebe: solid land 坚硬的泥土。broke = broken

6 noble birth，高贵的出身。

乡村墓园挽歌
托马斯·格雷


晚钟为告别的白昼敲起了丧钟，

咩咩羊群在草地上慢慢盘桓，

农夫疲惫地蹒跚在回家途中，

把整个世界留给我与黑暗。


此刻的大地闪着微光慢慢消退，

四周弥漫着一片寂静和庄严，

只听见甲壳虫在空中嗡嗡乱飞，

沉沉铃声为远处的羊圈催眠。


只听见那边披着常春藤的塔楼上

有只忧郁的猫头鹰对月抱怨，

怨有人在她秘密的深闺附近游逛，

打扰了她古老而幽静的庭院。


老苍的榆树下，紫杉的荫影里，

许多荒冢在烂草堆中隆起，

一个个在小窖里永远躺下躯体，

村里的粗鄙先辈在此安息。


芬芳四溢的晨风轻轻的呼唤，

茅草棚上燕子的细语呢喃，

回荡的号角，或公鸡的高声鸣啼

再也不能把他们从床上唤起。


熊熊炉火再也不会为他们燃烧，

主妇夜里也不会再为他们操劳，

孩子不再喊着跑去迎接爸爸回家，

不再趴到膝上去抢着亲吻撒娇。


昔日，他们用镰刀去夺取丰收，

板结的土块被犁成一条条垄沟；

赶着牲口下地，他们何等欢欣！

有力的砍伐使一根根树木低头！


别让“雄心”嘲笑他们有用的辛劳，

家常的欢乐和默默无闻的命运；

也别让“华贵”带着蔑视的冷笑

来倾听穷人简朴短暂的生平。


炫耀的门第，显赫的权势，

美和财富赋予的一切事物,

都同样等待着不可避免之时：

光辉的道路终将导致坟墓。

（何功杰 译）