Sailing to Byzantium ── William Butler Yeats

Sailing to Byzantium ── by Yeats, 1928



That is no country for old men. The young

In one another’s arms, birds in the trees

- Those dying generations - at their song,

The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,

Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long

Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.

Caught in that sensual music all neglect

Monuments of unageing intellect.



An aged man is but a paltry thing,

A tattered coat upon a stick, unless

Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing

For every tatter in its mortal dress,

Nor is there singing school but studying

Monuments of its own magnificence;

And therefore I have sailed the seas and come

To the holy city of Byzantium.



O sages standing in God’s holy fire

As in the gold mosaic of a wall,

Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,

And be the singing-masters of my soul.

Consume my heart away; sick with desire

And fastened to a dying animal

It knows not what it is; and gather me

Into the artifice of eternity.



Once out of nature I shall never take

My bodily form from any natural thing,

But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make

Of hammered gold and gold enamelling

To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;

Or set upon a golden bough to sing

To lords and ladies of Byzantium

Of what is past, or passing, or to come.


航向拜占庭 (余光中譯)



那不是老人的國度。年輕人

在彼此的懷中；鳥在樹上

──那些將死的世代──揚著歌聲；

鮭躍於瀑，鯖相摩于海洋；

泳者,行者，飛者，整個夏季頌揚

誕生,成長，而死去的眾生。

惑於感官的音樂,全都無視

紀念永生的智慧而立的碑石。



一個老人不過是一件廢物，

一件破衣掛在木杖上，除非

靈魂拍掌而歌，愈歌愈激楚，

為了塵衣的每一片破碎；

沒有人能教歌，除了去研讀

為靈魂的宏偉而豎的石碑；

所以我一直在海上航行，

來到這拜占庭的聖城。



哦，諸聖立在上帝的火中，

如立在有鑲金壁畫的牆上，

來吧,從聖火中，盤旋轉動，

且教我的靈魂如何歌唱。

將我的心焚化；情欲已病重，

且系在垂死的這一具皮囊，

我的心已不識自己,請將我納入，

納入永恆那精巧的藝術。



一旦蛻化後，我再也不肯

向任何物體去乞取身形，

除非希臘的金匠所製成

的那種，用薄金片和鍍金，

使欲眠的帝王保持清醒；

不然置我于金燦的樹頂；

向拜占庭的貴族和貴婦歌詠

已逝的，將逝的，未來的種種。