渥水 – 朗读版 – 2019年12月号

李莉中英文诵读《荷塘月色》 – 作者:朱自清

作者:朱自清
译者:徐英才
诵读:李莉

李莉中英文诵读《荷塘月色》 – 中文版

李莉中英文诵读《荷塘月色》 – 英文版


这几天心里颇不宁静。今晚在院子里坐着乘凉,忽然想起日日走过的荷塘,在这满月的光里,总该另有一番样子吧。月亮渐渐的升高了,墙外马路上孩子们的欢笑,已经听不见了;妻在屋里拍着闰儿,模模糊糊地哼着眠歌。我悄悄地披上大衫,带上门出去。

沿着荷塘,是一条曲折的小煤屑路这是一条幽僻的路;白天也少人走,夜晚更加寂寞。荷塘四面,长着许多树,蓊蓊郁郁的。路的一旁,是些杨柳,和一些不知道名字的树。没有月光的晚上,这路上阴森森的,有些怕人。今晚却很好,虽然月光也还是淡淡的。

路上只我一人,背着手踱着。这一片天地好象是我的;我也象超出了平常的自己,到了另一个世界里。我爱热闹,也爱冷静;爱群居,也爱独处。象今晚上,一个人在这苍茫的月下,什么都可以想,什么都可以不想,便觉是个自由的人。白天里一定要做的事,一定要说的话,现在都可以不理。这是独处的妙处;我且受用这无边的荷香月色好了。

曲曲折折的荷塘上面,弥望的是田田的叶子。叶子出水很高,象亭亭的舞女的裙。层层的叶子中间,零星地点缀着些白花,有袅娜地开着的,有羞涩地打着朵的;正如一粒粒的明珠,又如碧天里的星星。微风过处,送来缕缕清香,仿佛远处高楼上渺茫的歌声似的。这时候叶子与花也有一丝的颤动,象闪电般,霎时传过荷塘的那边去了。叶子本是肩并肩密密地挨着,这便宛然有了一道凝碧的波痕。叶子底下是脉脉的流水,遮住了,不能见一些颜色;而叶子却更见风致了。

月光如流水一般,静静地泻在这一片叶子和花上。薄薄的青雾浮起在荷塘里。叶子和花仿佛在牛乳中洗过一样;又象笼着轻纱的梦。虽然是满月,天上却有一层淡淡的云,所以不能朗照;但我以为这恰是到了好处–酣眠固不可少,小睡也是别有风味的。月光是隔了树照过来的,高处丛生的灌木,落下参差的斑驳的黑影;弯弯的杨柳的稀疏的倩影,象是画在荷叶上。塘中的月色并不均匀;但光与影有着和谐的旋律,如梵婀玲上奏着的名曲。

荷塘的四面,远远近近,高高低低都是树,而杨柳最多。这些树将一片荷塘重重围住;只在小路一旁,漏着几段空隙,象是特为月光留下的。树色一例是阴阴的,乍看象一团烟雾;但杨柳的丰姿,便在烟雾里也辨得出。树梢上隐隐约约的是一带远山,只有些大意罢了。树缝里也漏着一两点路灯光,没精打采的,是渴睡人的眼。这时候最热闹的,要数树上的蝉声和水里的蛙声;但热闹是他们的!我什么也没有。

忽然想起采莲的事情来了。采莲是江南的旧俗,似乎很早就有,而六朝时为盛;从诗歌里可以约略知道。采莲的是少年的女子,她们是荡着小船,唱着艳歌去的。采莲人不用说很多,还有看采莲的人。那是一个热闹的季节,也是一个风流的季节。梁元帝《采莲赋》里说得好:

于是
妖童媛女,荡舟心许;
鷁首徐回,兼传羽杯;
欋将移而藻挂,船欲动而萍开。
尔其纤腰束素,迁延顾步;
夏始春余,叶嫩花初,
恐沾裳而浅笑,畏倾船而敛裾。

于是又记起《西洲曲》里的句子:采莲南塘秋,莲花过人头;低头弄莲子,莲子清如水。今晚若有采莲人,这儿的莲花也算得”过人头”了;只不见一些流水的影子,是不行的。这令我到底惦着江南了。——这样想着,猛一抬头,不觉已是自己的门前;轻轻地推门进去,什么声息也没有,妻已睡熟好久了。

一九二七年七月,北京清华园。

A Lotus Pool in the Moonlight

by Zhu Ziqing
Tr. by Xu Yingcai

I feel very restless these days. Tonight, while I sit in our yard and enjoy the cool air, it strikes me that the lotus pool that I pass every day must look different under this full moon. The moon sails slowly up into the sky, and the laughter of the children playing in the street behind the wall is all gone. In the house, my wife pats our son Runer to the beat of the lullaby she drowsily croons. I quietly slip on a gown and walk out, leaving the door closed behind me.

Winding along the side of the lotus pool is a cinder-paved path. This is a secluded road with very few pedestrians, even during the daytime, and therefore, it is quieter at night.

Encircling the pool are dense clusters of trees, and growing by the path are willows and some trees unknown to me. On a moonless night, this path appears eerily somber, but it is fine tonight, although the moonlight is pale.I am the only one on the path, strolling with my hands behind me. This gives me a sense of possessing the entire vicinity, and also a sense of sublimating myself into another world. I enjoy the hustle and bustle of life but am also fond of peacefulness. I like socializing, but dont mind being all by myself. Like tonight, under this filmy moon, all by myself, I can think about anything I want to or nothing at all. I therefore feel I am a free man. I can completely ignore what I have to do or say during the daytime. This is the beauty of being alone. So let me just enjoy this boundless view of the lotus in the moonlight.

Gazing at the meandering pool, I see an abundance of lotus leaves. Standing high above the water, they look like the flared skirts of ballerinas; interspersed among the layers upon layers of leaves are white flowers, some of them blossoming gracefully and others budding shyly. They look very much like bright pearls, or stars in the azure sky. When a gentle breeze wafts over them, a whiff of lingering fragrance follows, which is as ethereal as the music flowing from the high tower in the distance. Right at this moment, there is a slight shiver from among the leaves and flowers. Like lightning, it flashes to the other side of the pool in the blink of an eye and zips open the densely clustered leaves in a jade-green streak. Underneath the leaves are innumerable ripples, which may be invisible, yet this invisibility is what accentuates the charm of the leaves.

Like water, the moonlight quietly streams onto the wide expanse of leaves and flowers. Over the pool, a thin greenish mist floats up. Thus, the leaves and flowers appear to be washed in milk or cloaked in a piece of fine gauze, as misty as a dream. Although a full-orbed moon sails in the sky tonight, it cannot shine brightly, because of the clouds, flimsy though they may be. In my opinion, this is where the beauty liesalthough one cannot dispense with sound sleep, sometimes a little nap has its own appeal. As the moon shines through the trees, it casts across the pool irregular and mottled shadows from the bosky shrubs standing high above. The sparse silhouettes of the winsome, sinuous willows seem to be painted onto the lotus leaves. The moonlight does not shine evenly onto the pool, but the lights and the shadows thus formed are rendered so harmoniously that they are like a famous melody being played on the violin.

Surrounding the pool, far and near, high and low, are trees, and most of them are willows. They encircle the pool tightly, except for a few spaces at the side where the path winds along. These spaces look as though they have been designed particularly to receive the moonshine. All of these trees appear dim, and look, at a quick glance, like a cloud of smog. But through the smog, the graceful stance of the willows is still discernible. At the tips of the trees are vague outlines of the distant hillsfaintly recognizable at the most. And dripping through the sporadic gaps among the trees are the lights of street lamps, dimly torpid like drowsy eyes. At the moment, the most animated sounds in this scene are the singing of the cicadas in the trees and the crowing of the frogs in the water, but these joys are theirs, not mine. I have nothing!

My thoughts suddenly drift to the lotus-gathering event. The lotus-gathering event is an old southern tradition, which can arguably be traced far back in time but was the most popular in the Six Dynasties (the 3rd century to the 6th century). Details about the lotus-gathering events are are revealed, to a certain extent, in the ancient poetry. The lotus gatherings were usually maidens, who traveled on dinghies while singing love songs. There were not only a lot of lotus gatherers, but also many spectators. It must have been a joyful and romantic event. In his verse, Ode to Lotus Gathering, Emperor Yuan of Liang gave a vivid deion of the scene.

Therefore,

Fine young men and fair ladies,In a courting mood, ride dinghies.Here they wind back the egret-shaped boats,

row their dinghies through the duckweeds.In plain skirts dangling from their waspish waists, The girls, glancing back, move in slow gaits.While summer proceeds, spring lingers,With tender leaves and fresh flowers.They giggle and hope to keep off the splash and spray, And lift their attire in case the boats tilt and sway.

This verse clearly reveals the merry spectacle of such an event. It must have been an interesting event, but we now do not have the fortune to enjoy it.

This reminds me of a few lines from The Song of Xizhou.

I went to gather lotus in South Pool,Where the autumn lotus flowers outgrow me; The seedpods I stoop to toy with and pull, Are as fresh as the green water can be.

The lotus flowers in this pool tonight can also be considered high enough to “outgrow gatherers,” if there is any gatherer, yet unfortunately the water ripples are hidden from sight. This makes me nostalgic for the south. Right at this point of my thought, I suddenly raise my head and find myself already back in front of our door. I gently push the door open and walk in. Inside the house, there is not a single sound to be heard. My wife has already been sound asleep for quite some time.

作者

朱自清,1898-1948。原名自华,号秋实,后改名自清,字佩弦。原籍浙江绍兴,出生于江苏省东海县。现代杰出的散文家、诗人、学者、民主战士。1916年中学毕业并成功考入北京大学预科。1919年开始发表诗歌。1928年第一本散文集《背影》出版。1932年7月,任清华大学中国文学系主任。1934年,出版《欧游杂记》和《伦敦杂记》。1935年,出版散文集《你我》。1948年8月12日因胃穿孔病逝于北平,年仅50岁。

译者

徐英才,原中国复旦大学英语教师,现在美国德宝大学工作,主教汉学课程。爱好翻译与诗歌。喜欢写新诗,旧诗和英语诗。诗作散见于国内外诗刊。诸多译著在国内外发表,其中的《英译唐宋八大家散文精选》和《英译中国经典散文选》是中国政府赠送美国的礼物。现任华人诗学会会长,汉英双语纸质诗刊《诗殿堂》总编。

渥水 – 2019冬 – 翻译诗

请勿茔前泣

原作:Mary Elizabeth Frye
翻译:瘦灯

请勿茔前泣,
我身已离去。

化为风千缕,
融作雪如絮。

轻柔润如雨,
飘落稻香地。

清晨溶静谧,
萧飒自飘逸。

盘旋展双翼,
闪烁夜星宇。

虽为繁花聚,
亦在幽室居。

啭喉小黄鹂,
栖身万物里。

请勿茔前泣,
我身已离去。

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

By Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

作者

Mary Elizabeth Frye (November 13, 1905 – September 15, 2004) was an American poet and florist, best known as the author of the poem Do not stand at my grave and weep, written in 1932.

She was born in Dayton, Ohio, and was orphaned at the age of three. She moved to Baltimore, Maryland, when she was twelve. She was an avid reader with a remarkable memory. She married Claud Frye, who ran a clothing business, while she grew and sold flowers. The poem for which she became famous was originally composed on a brown paper shopping bag, and was reportedly inspired by the story of a young Jewish girl, Margaret Schwarzkopf, who had been staying with the Frye household and had been unable to visit her dying mother in Germany because of anti-Semitic unrest.

渥水 – 2019冬 – 短文集

半杯咖啡半杯水

作者:雪犁

在多伦多北郊一个长期护理院的大厅里,养着一黑一半两只兔子。兔笼子上方的墙上,挂的是护理中心病人中所有超过100岁的老人的头像,而最引人注目的那位女士,名字叫做Evelyn。她端庄的脸庞上闪烁着一对充满智慧的眼睛,而无论你从哪个角度看这双眼,她会一直注视着你。

每天早晨,镶嵌着Evelyn名字的银牌在餐厅桌上静静等待着她的入席,而她总是姗姗来迟。只要她一坐下,工作人员总会立刻递上半杯咖啡,紧接着在咖啡杯里注入半杯水。不需糖,不加奶,Evelyn用她纤细的手指,轻握小勺将咖啡和水搅匀,然后优雅地将咖啡杯递到唇边,微微一泯,便在瓷杯上留下了娇小的唇印。Evelyn的银发盘在脑后,那根穿过发髻的别针每天都会变幻颜色,不偏不倚,恰如其分地与Evelyn衣服上的某种主色调契合。

Evelyn的早餐永远是新鲜的水果,不管同桌的长者如何谈论肉肠和糕点的美味,她总是一边细嚼慢咽着各式水果,一边读她那本随身携带的《Daily Bread》。她通常只在入座的时候淡淡地和同桌的长者点头微笑,从不参与她们的大声交谈,我本以为是她的那份清高使然,却无意中发现她的耳中蕴藏着两颗珍珠色的助听器。

有一次我推开她的房门把药送到她面前,她微笑着说,请给我半杯咖啡半杯水。我去厨房为她准备咖啡的时候,工作人员说这是Evelyn十多年来的习惯。当Evelyn吞下药以后,我便询问她为什么总在半杯咖啡中加入半杯水,她缓缓地说:“我年轻的时候是只喝咖啡不喝水的,但年长后咖啡因影响睡眠和健康,于是在咖啡里加水冲淡它”。

我环顾了一下Evelyn的房间,墙上挂着她和已故丈夫的结婚照,窗台上陈列着一排她儿女结婚后的生活照。“我有两个女儿,一个儿子。”然后她指着一张她100岁生日时候拍摄的照片说:“我有7个孙子孙女,13个曾孙”。

“您子孙满堂,福气真好啊!”我能看出Evelyn脸上的骄傲,便用称颂的口吻显示为她高兴。

“但是,我的儿子和女儿都已经去世了。” Evelyn的眼帘突然低垂下来。我蹲下身,握着她的手,一切尽在不言中。

“人活得太长久未必是好事。” Evelyn缓缓地抬起头,含着眼泪对我说。

“可我们现在都在积极锻炼身体,希望能健康长寿。有机会您不妨跟我们说说您的长寿秘诀。”

Evelyn显然是看出来我在用话语鼓励她。她笑着说:“你只要在半杯咖啡里注入半杯水,你就一定会长寿”。

我笑着点点头,我读懂了Evelyn的意念。其实这意念对我来说并不陌生。我的外婆曾经告诉我,凡事中庸,便能长寿。“中”为不偏不倚,“庸”为平常之心。外婆一生贤惠内秀,她擅长绣花,为家里所有孙女的棉袄和棉鞋上绣上各种麒麟龙凤,她用针线把爱镶嵌在了我们身上。外婆走的那天特别炎热,她把一把蒲草扇搭在自己的胸前,安静优雅地闭上眼,那年,她95岁。

人生,成功与失败参半,喜乐与哀怨参半,健康与体弱参半,幸运与不幸参半。而我们如果不懂得沉稳处事,必定会失之偏颇。当Evelyn意识到自己年龄增大,不能再任性地狂饮咖啡的时候,她坚持自己喝咖啡的个性爱好,又在咖啡里加入半杯水抑制自己的情欲,如此智慧地把握自己的人生,才赢得百岁不衰的境界。

实习结束我离开这家长期护理院的时候,我特意去向Evelyn告别。我在兔笼子前找到了她。她告诉我,这一黑一白两个兔子是她让孙女从家里带来的。我抬头望墙上百岁老人的照片,感觉似乎稀缺了几张。Evelyn说,“你把我的那张也取下来吧”。我心里很震惊,莫非Evelyn有离开世界的预兆?

Evelyn似乎看出来我的为难,她笑着说:“别人都离场了,我还站在舞台上,会不会被人感觉我太骄傲?”

我拥抱着Evelyn那袖珍型的身子,在她耳边轻轻地说:“我永远为您感到骄傲!”

渥水 – 2019冬 – 古典诗

暮春

作者:一尘

【行香子】

一夜风轻,拾起漂零。
入江中,浪述枯形。
阶前草色,天际云清。
丽金朦胧,重绿处,已凋零。

般般浅淡,篇篇凝重。
纵冷清,偏又叮咛。
纤尘一梦,天地浮名。
却写诗长,苦诗短,怕诗平。

注:丽金:暗喻蒲公英。

渥水 – 2019冬 – 现代诗

为你陶醉

作者:拜友弘诗

绵雨送来了晚秋的冷意,
轻寒重霜,枫叶足赤。
片片剔透的朱叶披满树枝,
层林尽染,万山火海。

随着阵阵凉风,
枫叶翩然下落,铺红原野。
分分叠叠,恰似树木年轮,
篆记流金岁月。
化作泥土,吻沃大地,幽香如故。
化作彩蝶,飞入心灵,写入情书。

枝拽叶飘,拽拽飘飘,
宛如暂别的情人,红晕含羞,
招招遥遥,挂挂牵牵。
叶子飘遥与秋风和弦,
倾诉着爱的赤诚和诺言,
明年春风吹又生,
一定相拥,岁岁婵娟。

枫叶美不仅在于她们外表朱丹,
更蕴于她们的风情万种。
枫树,枫叶,枫林,
为你倾倒,为你陶醉。

加拿大四季诗社