The river flow through the jungle,
Flows to the sea.
Floating the remains of their ancestors,
Floating ancestors of the spears.
We have heard,
The river came the voice from time immemorial,
Where the call of their ancestors,
Calling for us to take up arms,
To defend our homeland.
America is the American people of the Americas,
Our future generations grow up here,
Just as rivers,
Days and nights here flows.
原文:
Oh, Captain! My Captain
By Walt Whitman
Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather\'d every rack, the prize we sought is
worn,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all
exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and
daring;
Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather\'d every rack, the prize we sought is
worn,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all
exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and
daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red!
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle
trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon\'d wreaths--for you the shores
crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces
turning;
Here, Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck
You\'ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse or will;
The ship is anchor\'d safe and sound, its voyage closed
and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object
won;
Exult, O Shores! and ring, O bell!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.. 作者: ououmama 时间: 2011-12-15 09:23 标题: 有个天天向前走的孩子
母亲在家不声不响地把一盘盘的菜端到餐桌上,
母亲言语温和,穿戴整洁,走过时会从她身上和衣服上散发出健康的芳香,
父亲强壮,自负,魁伟,吝啬,爱发脾气,不公正,
那种殴打,急促而响亮的言谈,苛刻的讨价还价,耍手腕的本领,
那些家庭习惯,语言,交往,家具,那渴望和兴奋的情绪,
那无法否认的慈爱,那种真实感,那种惟恐最后成为泡影的忧虑,
那些白天黑夜的怀疑,那些奇怪的猜测和设想,
猜测那现象是否属实,或者全是些斑点和闪光,
那些大街上熙熙攘攘的男女,他们要不是些闪光和斑点又是什么?
那些大街本身和房子的门面,以及橱窗里的货样,
那些车辆和畜力车队,铺着厚木板的码头,规模宏大的渡口,
日落时远远看到的高地上的村庄,中间的河流,
阴影,光晕和雾霭,落在远处白色或棕色屋顶和山影上的夕照,
近处那些懒懒地顺流而下的帆船,缓缓拖在后面的小舟,
纷纷翻滚的波涛,在激扬中立即碎裂的浪峰,
层层叠叠的彩云,孤单地呆在一旁的紫酱色霞带,它静静地躺在其中的那片澄净的苍冥,
地平线的边缘,飞绕的海鸥、盐沼和海岸泥土的馥郁,
这些都变成那个孩子的一部分,那个天天向前走的孩子,他正在走,他将永远天天向前去。
There Was a Child Went Forth Every Day
By Walt Whitman
There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day,
Or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the mare's foal and the cow's calf,
And the noisy brood of the barnyard or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there, and the beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads, all became part of him.
The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him,
Winter-grain sprouts and those of the light-yellow corn, and the esculent roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees cover'd with blossoms and the fruit afterward, and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road,
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that pass'd on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass'd, and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek'd girls, and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.
His own parents, he that had father'd him and she that had conceiv'd
him in her womb and birth'd him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day, they became part of him.
The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the supper-table,
The mother with mild words, clean her cap and gown, a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by,
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, anger'd, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture, the yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsay'd, the sense of what is real, the thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of day-time and the doubts of night-time, the curious whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so, or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets, if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
The streets themselves and the facades of houses, and goods in the windows,
Vehicles, teams, the heavy-plank'd wharves, the huge crossing at the ferries,
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset, the river between,
Shadows, aureola and mist, the light falling on roofs and gables of white or brown two miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide, the little boat slack-tow'd astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves, quick-broken crests, slapping,
The strata of color'd clouds, the long bar of maroon-tint away
solitary by itself, the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon's edge, the flying sea-crow, the fragrance of salt marsh and shore mud,
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes, and will always go forth every day
Song of Myself By Walt Whitman 1819-1892
1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
我赞美我自己,歌唱我自己,
我所承担的一切你也得承担起来,
因为属于我的每一个原子都同样属于你。
我闲游,邀请我的灵魂一起,
我悠闲地俯身观察一片夏天的草叶。
我的舌头,我血液中的每个原子,都由这泥土这空气所构成,
我生在这里,我的父母生在这里,他们的父母也生在这里,
我如今三十七岁,身体完全健康,开始歌唱。
希望不停地唱下去,直到死亡。
2
Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with
perfumes,
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the
distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
The smoke of my own breath,
Echoes, ripples, buzz'd whispers, love-root, silk-thread, crotch and vine,
My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing
of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and
dark-color'd sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch'd words of my voice loos'd to the eddies of
the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,
The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields
and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising
from bed and meeting the sun.
Have you reckon'd a thousand acres much? have you reckon'd the earth much?
Have you practis'd so long to learn to read?
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of
all poems,
You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions
of suns left,)
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through
the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self.
2
屋子和房间里充满了香味,架子上也满是芳香,
我独自呼吸这芳香,认识它也喜爱它,
那气息也会使我沉醉,但是我不让它这样。
大气并不是一种芳香,它没有那种气味,它是无臭无味的,
它永远合乎我的口味,我爱上了它,
我要到林边的堤岸上去,去掉一切虚饰,赤裸裸地,
我疯狂地渴望它接触我的身体。
我自己呼出的热气,
回声,涟漪,嘤嘤细语,爱根,合欢树,枝丫和藤蔓,
我的呼吸,我心脏的跳动,我肺部中流动的血液和空气,
绿叶和枯叶的气息,海岸和黑色的海边岩石以及谷仓干草的气息,
从我喉咙里迸出飘散在旋风里的话语的声音,
几个轻吻,几番拥抱,两臂伸出的合围,
柔软的枝条摆动时光和影在树上的嬉戏,
独自一人或在闹市中或沿着田垄和山边行走时的欢喜,
健康的感觉,正午的颤音,我从床上起来迎着太阳时的歌曲。