Roses And Rue(To L. L.)Oscar WildeCould we dig up this long-buried treasure,Were it worth the pleasure,We never could learn love&`&s song,We are parted too long.Could the passionate past that is fledCall back its dead,Could we live it all over again,Were it worth the pain!I remember we used to meetBy an ivied seat,And you warbled each pretty wordWith the air of a bird;And your voice had a quaver in it,Just like a linnet,And shook, as the blackbird&`&s throatWith its last big note;And your eyes, they were green and greyLike an April day,But lit into amethystWhen I stooped and kissed;And your mouth, it would never smileFor a long, long while,Then it rippled all over with laughterFive minutes after.You were always afraid of a shower,Just like a flower:I remember you started and ranWhen the rain began.I remember I never could catch you,For no one could match you,You had wonderful, luminous, fleet,Little wings to your feet.I remember your hair - did I tie it?For it always ran riot -Like a tangled sunbeam of gold:These things are old.I remember so well the room,And the lilac bloomThat beat at the dripping paneIn the warm June rain;And the colour of your gown,It was amber-brown,And two yellow satin bowsFrom your shoulders rose.And the handkerchief of French laceWhich you held to your face -Had a small tear left a stain?Or was it the rain?On your hand as it waved adieuThere were veins of blue;In your voice as it said good-byeWas a petulant cry,&`&You have only wasted your life.&`&(Ah, that was the knife!)When I rushed through the garden gateIt was all too late.Could we live it over again,Were it worth the pain,Could the passionate past that is fledCall back its dead!Well, if my heart must break,Dear love, for your sake,It will break in music, I know,Poets&`& hearts break so.But strange that I was not toldThat the brain can holdIn a tiny ivory cellGod&`&s heaven and hell.致L.L.——玫瑰与悲伤王尔德是否我们还能掘出这掩埋已久的珍宝, 它的珍贵是否值得? 我们永远无法学会爱之歌,因为我们分开太久。 是否这已然消逝的激情往昔 还能召回它的亡者? 我们能否重新经历,那痛苦是否值得? 我记得我们常常相见 在攀著长春藤的座椅, 你婉转颂唱每个美丽的字句 如小鸟般圆润清丽。 而你的声音中有一种颤音, 一如朱雀, 并且抖动,如山鸟的喉咙 发出它最后的洪亮音符; 而你的眼睛,绿色和灰色 有如四月天 当我弯下腰亲吻时 却发亮如紫水晶; 而你的嘴,并不微笑 持续很长,很久一阵子, 然后笑声才如涟漪向四处波动—— 在五分钟之后。 你一向畏怯骤雨, 一如花朵: 我记得当雨开始下起 你惊跳起身并奔跑。 我记得我永远追不上你, 也无人能够与你相比, 因为你有美丽、闪亮、敏捷的 小巧翅翼——在你的双足。 我记得你的发——我是否将它束起? 因为它总是躁乱奔放—— 有如交缠的金色阳光, 这些都是过去的事了。 我记得如此清楚那房间, 那紫丁香花朵 拍打在滴水的窗玻璃上 在温暖的六月雨中; 而你长袍的颜色, 犹如琥珀般金黄, 两朵黄缎蝴蝶结 在你的双肩翩然伫立。 你握着镶着法式蕾丝的手帕 移向你的脸颊—— 是一小颗泪珠留下的斑痕? 还是雨点? 在你挥别的手上 有着蓝色的血管; 在你道别的声音中 有着焦躁的呼喊, "你不过在浪费你的生命。" (啊,就是这把刀!) 当我冲过花园的门槛 一切都已太晚。 是否我们能重新经历, 那痛苦是否值得? 是否这已然消逝的激情往昔 还能召回它的亡者! 也罢,若我必须心碎, 亲爱的爱人,因为你的缘故, 让它在音乐中破碎,我知道, 诗人们的心都是如此碎裂。 然而奇怪的是没有人告诉我, 在脑中这乳白小室里, 竟可以同时拥有 上帝的天堂与地狱。[雪梨有话说]奥斯卡·王尔德(1854-1900),爱尔兰作家、诗人、剧作家,英国唯美主义艺术运动的倡导者。其作品包括小说《道林·格雷的画像》,童话《夜莺与玫瑰》、《快乐王子》及戏剧作品《莎乐美》、《温夫人的扇子》。因被告“与其他男性发生有伤风化的行为”被捕入狱。Witty这个词很适合王尔德,语带嘲讽的妙言警句是他的拿手好戏。但他还是有正能量的一面的,比如这句“It takes great courage to see the world in all its tainted glory, and still to love it. And even more courage to see it in the one you love.”和“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”BGM:Nocturne in C Sharp Minor - Chopin
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