Daughters of Time,the hypocritic Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread,kingdoms,stars,and sky that holds them all.
I,in my pleached garden,watched the pomp,
Forgot my morning wishes,hastily
Took a few herbs and apples,and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I,too late,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
From The Portable Emerson.selected and arranged, with an introduction and notes, by Mark Van Doren(New York : The Viking Press, 1946.)
日子
時間老人的女兒,偽善的日子,一個個
裹著衣巾,喑啞如同赤足的托缽僧,
單行排列,無窮無盡地進行著,
手里拿著皇冕與一捆捆的柴。
她們向每一個人奉獻禮物,要什么有什么,
面包,王國,星,與包羅一切星辰的天空;
我在我矮樹交織的園中觀看那壯麗的行列,
我忘記了我早晨的愿望,匆忙地
拿了一點藥草與蘋果。日子轉(zhuǎn)過身,
沉默地離去。我在她嚴肅的面容里
看出她的輕視——已經(jīng)太晚了。
作者 / [美]拉爾夫·沃爾多·愛默生
《愛默森(愛默生)選集》 張愛玲譯