Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye during a Tour, July 13, 1798
William Wordsworth
Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur—Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs ,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore , and view
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
Mid groves and copses . Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence , from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration: —feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime ; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened: —that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on, —
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony , and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft—
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable , and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart—
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity ,
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.—I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passionː the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite ; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.—That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
Ad all its dizzy raptures . Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur; other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompense . For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue . And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earh; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear, —both what they half create ,
And what perceive ; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance ,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege ,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues ,
Rash judgments , nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude , or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance—
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence —wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service; rather say
With warmer love—oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs ,
And this green pastoral landscape , were to me
More dear, both for themselves, and for thy sake!
* * *
[ˈlɔ(ː)fti] adj.
高高的，崇高的
[klif] n.
悬崖，绝壁
[siˈkluːdid] adj.
隐退的，隐蔽的
[ˈlændskeip] n.
风景，地形，前景
[ˈsikəmɔː] n.
小无花果树，也指《圣经》中的桑树
[ˈʌnˈraip] adj.
未成熟的
[kɔps] n.
小灌木，杂树林
[ˈspɔːtiv] adj.
嬉戏着的，欢闹的
[ˈsailəns] n.
静，沉默，静默
[ˈdwelə(r)] n.
居住者，居民
[ˈwiərinis] n.
疲倦
[senˈseiʃən] n.
感觉，感情，感动
-pure
[pjuə] adj.
纯的，纯净的，纯洁的
[ˈtæŋkwil] adj.
安静的
[ˌʌnriˈmembə(r)] vt.
记不起，忘记
[ˈinfluəns] n.
影响
[səˈblaim] adj.
崇高的，卓越的
[ˈbəːðən] n.
负荷，负担
[ˈʌninˈtelidʒəbl] adj.
难解的，无法索解的
[ˈhɑːməni] n.
协调，和谐
[ˈfretful] adj.
烦躁的，焦躁的
[ʌnˈprɔfitəbl] adj.
无益的，没有用的
[ˈwɔndərə(r)] n.
流浪者，漫游者
[ˌrekəɡˈniʃən] n.
识别
[pəˈpleksiti] n.
困惑，混乱
[baund] v.
跳跃，跳
[ˈbɔiiʃ] adj.
少年的，童年的
[ˈkætərækt] n.
大瀑布，奔流
[ˈɡluːmi] adj.
幽暗的，阴沉的
[ˈæpitait] n.
爱好，欲望
[ˈdizi] adj.
晕眩的，耀眼的
[ˈræptʃə] n.
兴高采烈，欢天喜地
[mɔːn] v.
哀悼，感到惋惜
[ˈrekəmpəns] n.
报偿
[sʌbˈdjuː] v.
征服，驯化
[səˈblaim] adj.
崇高的，庄严的
[imˈpel] vt.
推动，推进
[kriˈeit] vt.
创作，创造
[pəˈsiːv] v.
感知，感到
[ˈɡɑːdjən] n.
护卫者，保护人
[pə(ː)ˈtʃɑːns] adv.
或许，恐怕
[ˈspirit] n.
精神，活力
[prɛə] n.
祈祷
[biˈtrei] vt.
失信于，亏待
[ˈprivilidʒ] n.
特权
[ˈlɔ(ː)fti] adj.
高高的，崇高的，高级的
[tʌŋ] n.
语言
[ˈdʒʌdʒmənt] n.
判断，指责
[sniə] n.
冷笑，嘲笑
[disˈtəːb] v.
扰乱
[ˈsɔlitəri] adj.
孤独的
[ˈekstəsi] n.
入迷，狂喜
[ˈsəubə] adj.
冷静的，清醒的
[ˈsɔlitjuːd] n.
孤独
[ˌeɡzɔːˈteiʃən] n.
劝告，讲道词
[iɡˈzistəns] n.
存在
[diˈlaitful] adj.
令人愉快的，可喜的
[ʌnˈwiərid] adj.
不疲倦的，不累的，孜孜不倦的
[klif] n.
悬崖，绝壁
[ˈlændskeip] n.
风景
* * *
华兹华斯
五年过去了，五个夏季，和五个
漫长的悠悠冬季！我再次听到
河水，从山上源头滚滚流出来，
发出内陆河流温柔的潺潺声。
我再次见到陡峭高耸的悬崖
使荒野幽僻的自在风物熔铸于
更加弃绝尘寰的思想意绪中；
使地上景色和宁谧苍穹连起来。
这一天终于来到了，我再次休憩
在这里，西克莫幽暗的荫下，观看
村前的片片土地，果树小丘，
在这个季节，果子还没有成熟，
果树披一身翠绿的颜色，隐没在
矮树和丛林中间。我再次看见
灌木树篱，几乎说不上是树篱，
欢闹的细树枝乱窜：一片片牧场，
绿色延伸到门前；袅袅的炊烟
向上升起，静静地，从树林中间！
凭一些捉摸不定的征兆，烟也许
来自林中流浪的无屋居民们，
或来自隐者的洞穴，穴中火堆旁，
隐者独坐着。
这样美丽的景象，
经过多年的阔别，对我并没有
仿佛对盲人那样，失去吸引力：
我时常在陋室独处，受到城镇
喧嚣的干扰，就感谢那美景慰我于
疲惫的时刻，赋予我甜美的激情，
渗入到血脉，引发心房的颤动；
甚至直穿透我的清纯的灵性，
使之回复到安宁：——同时召回了
已经忘却的欢愉：这些，也许
产生过并非微不足道的影响
施加于善良人无比美好的年华，
使他发善心、爱心，做几件无名的、
被人忘却的小事。而且我确信
美景还曾授予我另一件更加
崇高的礼物：那就是圣洁的心态，
这种心态，是人生之谜的负担、
使不可思议、无法索解的尘世
导致的困倦和重压得到缓解
而豁然开朗：——在安详圣洁的心态里，
柔情领我们向前去，温馨而和蔼，
直到这肉体似乎停止了呼吸，
甚至于体内血液的循环流动
也几乎终止了，躯壳沉入了昏睡，
我们却成为飞动的灵魂：万类的
和谐与喜悦激起深沉的力量
赋予我们以清明澄澈的目力，
而得以洞察生命的本质。
难道说
这只是空洞的信念？不啊，多少次
在黑夜阴沉，在白天郁郁寡欢，
乱象纷呈；陡然无益的烦恼
和骚动、尘世间焦躁不安的病热
使我的心脏悸动，下坠，这时候，
多少次，我潜思默想而转向你啊，
你穿越葱郁森林而漫流的瓦伊河！
我的灵魂多少次向你飞去啊！
如今，思维闪光的余烬又燃起，
多少次追念，隐约朦胧地辨认，
稍微带点儿困惑，有几分伤感，
印入心灵的图景重新活起来：
如今我站在这里，不仅感受到
目前的欢悦，而且欣喜地得悉：
此刻已经存贮着未来年月的
生机和养料。我敢于如此期望——
尽管，毫无疑问地，我已不同于
初到山野的旧我；当年我如同
一只小鹿，奔跃于崇山峻岭间，
欢跳过深涧的岸坡，幽僻的清溪，
听凭自然的安排：仿佛是对于
所爱事物的追求，却更像逃离
可怕事物的阴影。因为自然
（我的童年岁月里粗拙的欢欣、
小兽般快乐的动作已一去不返）
是我一切的一切。——我无法描写
我那时的模样。轰响的飞瀑急湍
时时热恋般萦绕在我的心头，
高山，悬岩，浓荫幽邃的深林，
多姿多彩，形影交叠，都成为
我的乐趣；那种感受，那种爱，
完全没必要由想象提供另外的
旖旎妩媚，也毋需从视觉以外
借来些逸兴雅致。——那年代远去了，
一切令人心疼目眩的欢乐
和狂喜如今都已经消逝。对此
我并不抱怨或茫然若失；另一些
收获随之而来了；我相信损失
会得到丰盈的补偿。我已经懂得
怎样去观察自然，不再像是个
没有思想的少年；我经常聆听
这肃穆而又哀伤的人生乐曲，
不粗陋，不刺耳，却有足够的力量
来纯化心灵，驯化天性。我感到
某种神性的存在，以崇高思想
蕴含的喜悦惊动我；我更庄严地
感受到某种渗透深情的品质，
寄寓于落日的霞光，浑圆的海洋，
寄寓于清新的空气，蔚蓝的天空，
同时寄寓于人类的心灵之中：
一种意向，一种精神，推动着
一切思维的主体和思维的对象，
在天地万物间运转。于是我依然
故我，深爱着草原和森林，深爱着
高山险峰，深爱着葱郁大地上
呈现的一切，深爱着耳目所接的
大千世界的一切，——包括视听
初步的感知和一半的创造；我深感
欣慰于能从自然和感官的语言中
找到我纯真企望的支柱，认知
我的心灵的保姆、导师、守护神，
我全部精神本真的魂灵。
即便
我不曾受过这样的陶冶化育，
我的天生的活力也不会衰退：
因为有你陪伴我，在这片风光
优美的河边，你呵，亲爱的伙伴，
最亲最爱的伙伴！从你的嗓音
我听到我昔日心灵的语言，从你那
天然闪射的目光中，我又重温
早年的欢乐。哦！再看你一会儿，
从你的音容看到我过去的自己，
亲爱的妹妹！这就是我的祈愿，
因为我确信自然决不会亏待
爱她的心灵；她具有特殊的功能，
会引导我们穿越一生的岁月，
从欢乐到达欢乐：她能够渗透
我们内心的智能，能够让我们
沉浸在美境和静境中，用崇高思想
哺育我们，因此，詈骂和诽谤，
粗暴的指责，利己狂徒的讥嘲，
不怀好意的问候，以及一切
日常生活中枯燥乏味的交往，
都不能压服我们，也不能打乱
我们由衷的信念：我们见到的
万物都受惠于天赐。那么，让月亮
洒光照亮你独自款步的身影；
再让山岭间带着薄雾的轻风
一阵阵向你吹拂：今后的岁月里，
当这些心醉神迷的狂喜成熟为
一种恬静的怡悦，当你的心胸
成为一切良辰美景的邸宅，
你的记忆里寓居着无数美妙而
和谐的弦管鸣奏；哦！那时候，
假如孤寂或恐惧、痛苦或悲伤
攫住你，你就会想到我，给你带来
温婉的欢悦，愈合创伤的思念，
和我的这些劝勉的诗行！也许，
有一天我离开尘世，再不能听到
你的声音，不能见到你天然的
目光里逝去的华彩——那时候，你仍然
会记得我们并肩站立在这条
怡情悦性的溪河边，会记得
我始终是个自然崇拜者，不倦地
来此地向自然朝圣，对她的钦慕
越来越热烈——哦！极端深沉、
极端圣洁的爱呵！你不会忘记，
经过了远方浪迹，多年阔别，
我觉得这些峭岩，参天的林木，
葱郁的牧野，更加亲切可爱了——
因它们自身，也由于你的缘故！