Dylan Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) was a Welsh poet. Apart from writing poems, Thomas also wrote short stories and scripts for film and radio, with the latter medium, especially, performed by Thomas himself. His public readings, particularly in America, won him great acclaim. He died at the age of 39 in New York.

狄兰-托马斯，1914年10月出生于威尔士。二十世纪最具影响力的英语诗人之一。虽然狄兰主要是位诗人，他亦出版电影剧本和短篇小说。在他刚庆祝完39岁生日后不久，于纽约醉酒而死。

Edgar Dive studied at the London School of Economics and the Australian National University. He now lives in Hong Kong.

戴玨，伦敦经济学院和澳洲国立大学毕业。现居于香港。

Twenty-Four Years

二十四年

Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.

(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.)

In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor

Sewing a shroud for a journey

By the light of the meat-eating sun.

Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,

With my red veins full of money,

In the final direction of the elementary town

I advance for as long as forever is.

			

回顾二十四年的岁月，我的眼睛充满泪水。

（埋葬死者以免她们在阵痛中步向坟地。）

我曾蹲在天然门廊的腹沟里，

像个裁缝，借用吞食一切的阳光，

缝制一件旅行用的寿衣。

盛装就死，肉欲之徜徉已开始，

我的红色血管里满是金钱，

朝着小镇最后的方向

我永久地前行。

			

In My Craft or Sullen Art

我的技艺或沉郁的艺术

In my craft or sullen art

Exercised in the still night

When only the moon rages

And the lovers lie abed

With all their griefs in their arms,

I labour by singing light

Not for ambition or bread

Or the strut and trade of charms

On the ivory stages

But for the common wages

Of their most secret heart.



Not for the proud man apart

From the raging moon I write

On these spindrift pages

Nor for the towering dead

With their nightingales and psalms

But for the lovers, their arms

Round the griefs of the ages,

Who pay no praise or wages

Nor heed my craft or art.

			

在平静的夜里施展，

当只有月亮在发怒

而恋人们躺在床上

抱着他们所有的悲苦，

我在吟唱的灯光下潜心于

我的技艺或沉郁的艺术，

不是为了抱负或面包，

也不是为了在象牙舞台上

卖弄风骚，昂首阔步，

是为了他们最隐秘的心

这寻常的薪金。



除了恼怒的月亮，

我不会为那得意的人

在这些风起浪涌的纸张上抒写，

也不为有夜莺和圣歌

作伴的高耸的死人，

而只为恋人们，他们的臂膀

拥抱岁月的悲苦，

既不给以赞美或薪金，

也不会留意我的技艺或艺术。

			

Ears In The Turrets Hear

塔楼中的耳朵听见

Ears in the turrets hear

Hands grumble on the door,

Eyes in the gables see

The fingers at the locks.

Shall I unbolt or stay

Alone till the day I die

Unseen by stranger-eyes

In this white house?

Hands, hold you poison or grapes?



Beyond this island bound

By a thin sea of flesh

And a bone coast,

The land lies out of sound

And the hills out of mind.

No birds or flying fish

Disturbs this island's rest.



Ears in this island hear

The wind pass like a fire,

Eyes in this island see

Ships anchor off the bay.

Shall I run to the ships

With the wind in my hair,

Or stay till the day I die

And welcome no sailor?

Ships, hold you poison or grapes?



Hands grumble on the door,

Ships anchor off the bay,

Rain beats the sand and slates.

Shall I let in the stranger,

Shall I welcome the sailor,

Or stay till the day I die?



Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships,

Hold you poison or grapes?

			

塔楼中的耳朵听见

手在门上轰鸣

山墙里的眼睛看见

弄门锁的手指

我该开门还是

孤零零地等到我在这栋

白色房子里死去的那天

而不让陌生的眼睛发现？

手啊，你拿着的是毒药还是葡萄？



在这被肌肉之海

和骨头海岸绑住

的岛屿那一边，

土地位于声音之外

山丘位于心智之外

没有鸟或飞行的鱼

会打扰这岛屿的安宁。



这岛屿中的耳朵听见

风像火一样吹过

这岛屿中的眼睛看见

船只停泊在海湾

我该带着头发里的风

奔向那些船

还是等到我死去的那天

而不去迎接任何水手？

船啊，你装载的是毒药还是葡萄？



手在门上轰鸣

船只停泊在海湾

雨水敲打沙地和石板，

我该不该让那陌生人进来，

我该不该去迎接那水手，

或是等到我死去的那天？



陌生人的手和那些船的货舱，

你们带来的是毒药还是葡萄？

			

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

不要温和地走入那良夜

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.



Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.



Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

			

不要温和地走入那良夜，

老年人应该燃烧并对着日暮呼喊；

怒斥丶怒斥那光的微灭。



尽管聪明人临终时知道黑暗正确，

因为他们的话语没有迸出闪电，

他们并不温和地走入那良夜。



好人，当最后一浪涌过，高呼他们脆弱的功业

本可以很光辉地起舞于绿色的海湾，

也怒斥丶怒斥那光的微灭。



狂放的人抓住并歌唱过太阳的飞越，

意识到，太晚了，他们曾使它在途中哀叹，

他们也并不温和地走入那良夜。



沉稳的人，临死时用眩目的视觉

看到瞎眼也能像流星般闪耀而欣欢，

也怒斥丶怒斥那光的微灭。



而您呀，我的父亲，身处高度的悲切，

请用您的热泪诅咒丶祝福我，我祈愿。

不要温和地走入那良夜，

怒斥丶怒斥那光的微灭。