ououmama 2011-12-15 08:11
美国诗人 惠特曼
印第安人的河【惠特曼】
河水流过丛林，
流向大海，
漂起祖先的尸骨，
漂起祖先的长矛。
我们听到，
河水的歌声从远古传来，
那里有祖先的呼唤，
呼唤我们拿起武器，
保卫我们的家园。
美洲是美洲人的美洲，
我们世世代代在这里成长，
就像河流，
日日夜夜在这里流淌。
Indian River
by Whitman
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.
[[i] 本帖最后由 ououmama 于 2011-12-15 08:19 编辑 [/i]].
ououmama 2011-12-15 08:13
惠特曼
沃尔特·惠特曼（Walt Whitman，1819年5月31日－1892年3月26日），生于纽约州长岛，他是美国著名诗人、人文主义者，其代表作品是诗集《草叶集》。
1819年，惠特曼生于现今长岛，南亨亭顿附近的一个农舍中，他在九个兄弟姐妹中排行第二。1823年，惠特曼一家移居到纽约布鲁克林区。惠特曼只上了6年学，然后开始做印刷厂学徒。惠特曼基本上是自学的，他特别喜欢读霍默、但丁和莎士比亚的作品。
在做了两年学徒以后，惠特曼搬到纽约市，并开始在不同的印刷厂工作。1835年，他返回长岛，在一所乡村学校执教。1838年至1839年期间，他在他的家乡办了一份叫做《长岛人》的报纸。他一直教书直到1841年，之后他回到纽约并当了一名记者。他也在一些主流杂志上担任自由撰稿人，或发表政治演讲。
惠特曼的政治演讲引起了坦慕尼协会的注意，他们让他担任一些报纸的编辑，但是没有一个工作做的长久。在他担任有影响力的报纸《布鲁克林之鹰》的两年间，民主党内部的分裂使得支持自由国土党的他离开了工作。在他尝试为自由国土办报纸的努力失败后，他开始在不同的工作间漂浮。1841年到1859年间，他共在新奥尔良编辑过1份报纸、纽约2份报纸和长岛四份报纸。在新奥尔良的时候，他亲眼目睹了奴隶拍卖——当时很普遍的事情。这时，惠特曼开始着力写诗。
19世纪40年代是惠特曼长期工作的第一个收获期：1841年他出版了一些短篇故事，一年后他在纽约出版了小说《富兰克林·埃文斯》（Franklin Evans）。第一版的草叶集是他自己付费出版的，出版于1855年，也是他父亲去世的那年。但是的诗集由12篇长篇无标题的是组成。一年后，在草叶集的第二版，连同爱默生的祝贺信一同被出版。第二版有20组诗。爱默生一直企盼着一名新的美国诗人，现在他在《草叶集》中找到了。
在美国内战后，惠特曼在内政部当职员，但是当当时的内政部部长詹姆士·哈兰发现他是“讨厌”的《草叶集》的作者后，他把惠特曼解雇了。
到了1881年的第七版时，由于不断上升的知名度，这版诗集得以畅销。诗集带来的收入使得惠特曼可以在纽约卡姆登买上一间房子。
惠特曼于1892年3月26日逝世，他被安葬在哈利公墓（Harleigh），在他自己设计的墓碑下面。
1841年 搬到纽约。
1855年 父亲去世，《草叶集》（Leaves of Grass）第一版。
1862年 探望再腓烈德利斯堡战役中受伤的兄弟。
1865年 林肯被暗杀，惠特曼的战时诗集 Drum-Taps（后来放到《草叶集》中）出版。
1871年 母亲路易莎去世。
1882年 会见奥斯卡·王尔德，出版 Specimen Days and Collect。
1885年 为纪念林肯逝世20周年，作诗《献给那个被钉在十字架上的人》，后收入《草叶集》。
1888年 第二次打击。严重的疾病。
1891年 草叶集最后一版
1892年 惠特曼去世，3月26日
[[i] 本帖最后由 ououmama 于 2011-12-15 08:21 编辑 [/i]].
ououmama 2011-12-15 08:25
船长，我的船长 Oh, Captain! My Captain
船长，我的船长（惠特曼）
啊，船长！我的船长！我们的艰苦航程已经终结；
这只船渡过了一切风险，我们争取的胜利已经获得；
港口在望，我听见钟声在响，人们都在欢呼，千万只眼都在望这
只稳定的船，它显得威严而英武；
但是，呵，心呀！心呀！心呀！
呵，鲜红得血液长流；甲板上躺着我们的船长，
倒下来了，冷了，死了。
啊，船长，我们的船长！起来听听钟声；
起来，旗帜正为你飘扬，军号正为你发出颤音；
为你，送来了这些花束和花环，为你，岸上的人们在拥挤；
这熙熙攘攘得人群，他们为你欢呼，他们的热情的脸转朝着你；
这里，船长！亲爱的父亲！
我这只手臂把你的头支起；
在甲板上像是在一场梦里，
你倒下来了，冷了，死了。
我的船长不回答，它的嘴唇苍白而静寂；
我的父亲感觉不到我的手臂，他已经没有知觉，也没有脉息；
这只船安安稳稳下了锚，已经结束了他的航程；
这只胜利的船从艰苦的旅程归来，大功已经告成：
欢呼吧，呵，海岸！响吧，呵，钟！
可是我踏着悲哀的步子，
在我的船长躺着的甲板上走来走去，他倒下了，冷了，死了！
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..
ououmama 2011-12-15 09:23
有个天天向前走的孩子
有个天天向前走的孩子，
他只要观看某一个东西，他就变成了那个东西，
在当天或当天某个时候那个对象就成为他的一部分，
或者继续许多年或一个个世纪连绵不已。
早开的丁香成为这个孩子的一部分，
青草和红的白的牵牛花，红的白的三叶草，鶲鸟的歌声，
以及三月的羔羊和母猪的一窝淡红色的小崽，母马的小驹，母牛的黄犊，
还有仓前场地或者池边淤泥旁一窝啁啾的鸟雏，
还有那些巧妙地浮游在下面的鱼，和那美丽而奇怪的液体，
还有那些头部扁平而好看的水生植物——所有这些都变为他的成分，在某个部位。
四五月间田地里的幼苗变成了他的一部分，
还有冬季谷类作物和浅黄色的玉米苗儿，以及园子里菜蔬的块根，
缀满花朵的苹果树和后来的果实，木浆果，以及路边最普通的野草，
从小旅馆外面厕所里很晚才起来的踉跄而归的醉老汉，
路过这里的彼此要好的男孩子和争吵的男孩子，
整洁而脸颊红润的小姑娘，赤脚的黑人娃娃，
以及他所到的城市和乡村的一切变化。
他自己的父母，那个作他父亲的男人和在子宫里孕育并生产了他的母亲，
他们从自己身上给予这孩子的还不止此，
他们后来还每天都给，他们成了他的一部分。
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
[[i] 本帖最后由 ououmama 于 2011-12-15 09:26 编辑 [/i]].
ououmama 2011-12-15 09:33
我自己之歌
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。
教条和学派先不去管，
暂且退回来，满足于它们的现状，可是决不能忘了，
我一味怀抱自然，我允许无所顾忌地述说自然，
以原始的活力，谁也不能阻拦。
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。
你以为一千英亩就很多了吗？你以为地球很大了吗？
你曾经长期用功来学会阅读吗？
你因懂得诗歌的意义而感到骄傲了吗？
今天和今夜同我在一起，你就会掌握一切诗歌的来源，
你就会有了大地和太阳的好处（还留下千百万个太阳呢），
你就会不再间接又间接地认识事物，或通过死者的眼睛，或以书本里的幽灵来喂养自己，
你也不会用我的眼睛来观察，或从我获取事物，
你会向所有各方面谛听，并通过你自己把它们滤取。.