Spring Day
春日
By Amy Lowell
文/艾米·洛威尔
Bath
沐浴
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air.
天朗气清，空气中有郁金香和水仙的味道。
The sunshine pours in at the bathroom window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in lathes and planes of greenish-white. It cleaves the water into flaws like a jewel, and cracks it to bright light.
阳光从浴室的窗户倾泻进来，穿透浴盆里的水，呈现一道道、一层层绿白的色彩，在水面划出一条条宛如珠宝上的纹路，又散作一片璀璨的光芒。
Little spots of sunshine lie on the surface of the water and dance, dance, and their reflections wobble deliciously over the ceiling; a stir of my finger sets them whirring, reeling. I move a foot, and the planes of light in the water jar. I lie back and laugh, and let the green-white water, the sun-flawed beryl water, flow over me. The day is almost too bright to bear, the green water covers me from the too bright day. I will lie here awhile and play with the water and the sun spots.
星星点点的阳光倚波荡漾，反射到天花板的光斑也随之摇曳，叫人心生愉悦；手指稍一搅动，它们便开始旋转、摇荡。我动动一只脚，浴缸中便泛起层层的光。于是我躺下身去，怡然微笑，让这绿波白光，让这被太阳划出纹路的绿玉，浸没我的身体。日光太过明亮，几乎让人无法承受，就在这明亮的日光里，一汪碧水将我包裹。我要在这里躺上片刻，要与这水、这点点阳光嬉戏。
The sky is blue and high. A crow flaps by the window, and there is a whiff of tulips and narcissus in the air.
天空蔚蓝、高远。一只乌鸦在窗边拍打翅膀，送来一缕淡淡的郁金香和水仙的气味。
Breakfast table
早餐桌
In the fresh-washed sunlight, the breakfast table is decked and white. It offers itself in flat surrender, tendering tastes, and smells, and colours, and metals, and grains, and the white cloth falls over its side, draped and wide. Wheels of white glitter in the silver coffee-pot, hot and spinning like catherine-wheels, they whirl, and twirl – and my eyes begin to smart, the little white, dazzling wheels prick them like darts. Placid and peaceful, the rolls of bread spread themselves in the sun to bask. A stack of butter-pats, pyramidal, shout orange through the white, scream, flutter, call: “Yellow! Yellow! Yellow!” Coffee steam rises in a stream, clouds the silver tea-service with mist, and twists up into the sunlight, revolved, involuted, suspiring higher and higher, fluting in a thin spiral up the high blue sky. A crow flies by and croaks at the coffee steam. The day is new and fair with good smells in the air.
洁净的阳光下，早餐桌也被装点得分外洁白、夺目。它心甘情愿贡献出自己的一切，连同各种味道、各种气味、各种色彩、各种金属和各种粮食。洁白、宽大的桌布从桌边自然垂坠。银咖啡壶上的转轮闪烁着白光，热气腾腾地旋转着，轮转烟花般，不停地转啊转啊——我的眼睛开始发疼，因为这些小转轮耀眼的白光像飞镖一样刺向它们。一个个面包卷沐浴着阳光，安静又安详。黄油块叠放成金字塔状，洁白中透着点点橙色，似乎在尖叫着、摇摆着、呼喊着：“这是黄色！黄色！黄色！”咖啡冒出的缕缕热气给银色茶具蒙上薄薄的雾，这热气在阳光里环绕升腾，盘旋交缠，越升越高，然后向悠悠的碧空渐渐旋转、消散。一只乌鸦飞过，对着咖啡的热气呱呱直叫。多么清新晴朗的一天，空气中的气息令人心怡。
Walk
散步
Over the street the white clouds meet, and sheer away without touching.
街道上空，洁白的流云飘向对方，眼看就要交会，却又各自飘远。
On the sidewalks, boys are playing marbles. Glass marbles, with amber and blue hearts, roll together and part with a sweet clashing noise. The boys strike them with black and red striped agates. The glass marbles spit crimson when they are hit, and slip into the gutters under rushing brown water. I smell tulips and narcissus in the air, but there are no flowers anywhere, only white dust whipping up the street, and a girl with a gay Spring hat and blowing skirts. The dust and the wind flirt at her ankles and her neat, high-heeled patent leather shoes. Tap, tap, the little heels pat the pavement, and the wind rustles among the flowers on her hat.
人行道上，男孩们在打弹珠。琥珀色和蓝色内核的玻璃珠滚到一起，发出清脆的撞击声后弹开。他们用黑红条纹的玛瑙击打这些珠子。被击中的玻璃珠噼啪一声被映成深红色，然后滚进流淌着浑浊泥水的沟里。我闻到空气中郁金香和水仙的气味，然而四周却没有一朵鲜花，街上只有扬起的白色灰尘，还有一个戴着艳丽的春天帽子的女孩，裙摆随风飘动。尘土和春风戏弄着她的脚踝和她优雅的高跟漆皮皮鞋。嗒、嗒……小巧的鞋跟拍打着路面，清风沙沙地抚弄她帽子上的花朵。
A water-cart crawls slowly on the other side of the way. It is green and gay with new paint, and rumbles contentedly, sprinkling clear water over the white dust. Clear zigzagging water, which smells of tulips and narcissus.
街的另一边，一辆洒水车正缓缓前行。它新涂了鲜亮的绿漆，发出心满意足的隆隆声，将清水洒向白色的灰尘。清亮的水柱来回喷洒，散发着郁金香和水仙的味道。
The thickening branches make a pink grisaille against the blue sky.
愈加繁茂的树枝以蓝天为底，绘制出一幅透着粉色的灰色浮雕画。
Whoop! The clouds go dashing at each other and sheer away just in time. Whoop! And a man’s hat careers down the street in front of the white dust, leaps into the branches of a tree, veers away and trundles ahead of the wind, jarring the sunlight into spokes of rose-colour and green.
看！天上的云朵飞快地流动，不及交会便飘离而去。看！一顶男士帽子迎着白色的尘土从街面飘过，飞进树枝中间，又被吹落，在风里跌跌撞撞，将阳光收进它那玫瑰色和绿色的帽缝里。
A motor-car cuts a swathe through the bright air, sharp-beaked, irresistible, shouting to the wind to make way. A glare of dust and sunshine tosses together behind it, and settles down. The sky is quiet and high, and the morning is fair with fresh-washed air.
一辆汽车穿过这光亮，尖尖的前脸势不可挡，大声叫唤着，要风让路。车后，阳光里尘土飞扬，又徐徐落下。天空宁静高远，晨光明媚，空气清新。
Midday and afternoon
中午和午后
Swirl of crowded streets. Shock and recoil of traffic. The stock-still brick façade of an old church, against which the waves of people lurch and withdraw. Flare of sunshine down side-streets. Eddies of light in the windows of chemists’ shops, with their blue, gold, purple jars, darting colours far into the crowd. Loud bangs and tremors, murmurings out of high windows, whirring of machine belts, blurring of horses and motors. A quick spin and shudder of brakes on an electric car, and the jar of a church-bell knocking against the metal blue of the sky. I am a piece of the town, a bit of blown dust, thrust along with the crowd. Proud to feel the pavement under me, reeling with feet. Feet tripping, skipping, lagging, dragging, plodding doggedly, or springing up and advancing on firm elastic insteps. A boy is selling papers, I smell them clean and new from the press. They are fresh like the air, and pungent as tulips and narcissus.
拥挤的街道纷繁嘈杂。交通时而喧嚣，时而复归宁静。在一座老教堂砖砌的立面前，人潮此起彼伏。明晃晃的阳光灌满小巷。阳光像涡旋照进药房的窗户，蓝色、金色、紫色的药罐将色彩反射到人群的身上。喧闹的响声和震动声，高窗传来的低语，机器皮带的呼呼声，还有马匹和马达渐渐模糊的声响。电车的刹车快速旋转，剧烈颤动，教堂钟声响起，回荡在天空那带着金属色的蓝里。我，小镇芸芸众生里的一个，扬起尘埃中的一点，在人群中被推搡着向前。我欢欣地感受着脚下的路，感受着自己的双脚，步伐时而踉跄，时而蹦跳，时而迟缓，时而踌躇，时而步履沉重，时而轻快跳跃，健步如飞。一个报童正在卖报，我闻到了新印报纸干净的味道，就像空气一般清新，又像郁金香和水仙那样强烈。
The blue sky pales to lemon, and great tongues of gold blind the shop-windows, putting out their contents in a flood of flame.
天空渐渐由蓝色变为柠檬色，商店的玻璃窗蒙上大片金辉，火焰般遮盖住窗户里的一切。
Night and sleep
夜色和睡眠
The day takes her ease in slippered yellow. Electric signs gleam out along the shop fronts, following each other. They grow, and grow, and blow into patterns of fire-flowers as the sky fades. Trades scream in spots of light at the unruffled night. Twinkle, jab, snap, that means a new play; and over the way: plop, drop, quiver, is the sidelong sliver of a watchmaker’s sign with its length on another street. A gigantic mug of beer effervesces to the atmosphere over a tall building, but the sky is high and has her own stars, why should she heed ours?
白昼在慵懒的黄色余晖中安然休憩。沿街店铺的电子招牌竞相闪耀。随着天色渐暗，它们越来越亮，最后竟开成一朵朵火花的图案。点点光亮中，各色摊贩的红火生意打破了夜的平静。灯火明灭，拨一下灯芯，火苗啪地窜起，意味着新的夜生活即将开始；而街的对面，钟表匠的招牌扑通一声掉落，剥落的碎片在风中颤动，一直绵延到另一条街。最后一抹余晖就像盛于一只巨杯里的啤酒，在一幢高楼的顶上冒着气泡。天空是那样高远，而且不乏星斗，为何却还要注意人间的灯火？
I leave the city with speed. Wheels whirl to take me back to my trees and my quietness. The breeze which blows with me is fresh-washed and clean, it has come but recently from the high sky. There are no flowers in bloom yet, but the earth of my garden smells of tulips and narcissus.
我加快速度离开这城市。车轮飞转，将我带回到我的树林，我的静谧之所。刚刚从高空吹来的微风，清新而干净。花儿一朵也没开放，但我花园里的泥土已经散发出郁金香和水仙的气味。
My room is tranquil and friendly. Out of the window I can see the distant city, a band of twinkling gems, little flower-heads with no stems. I cannot see the beer-glass, nor the letters of the restaurants and shops I passed, now the signs blur and all together make the city, glowing on a night of fine weather, like a garden stirring and blowing for the Spring.
我的房间清净又舒适。透过窗户可以看见远处的城市，那是一条闪烁着宝石的带子，一片没有茎叶的细小繁花。我看不见啤酒杯，也看不见回来的路上餐馆和商店的名字，它们的招牌已变得模糊，所有这一切共同构成了这座城市，在一个晴朗的夜里散发着魅力，就像一座为春天舞动、摇摆的花园。
The night is fresh-washed and fair and there is a whiff of flowers in the air.
夜气清和爽朗，空气中飘荡着一缕淡淡的花香。
Wrap me close, sheets of lavender. Pour your blue and purple dreams into my ears. The breeze whispers at the shutters and mutters queer tales of old days, and cobbled streets, and youths leaping their horses down marble stairways. Pale blue lavender, you are the colour of the sky when it is fresh-washed and fair... I smell the stars... they are like tulips and narcissus... I smell them in the air.
薰衣草的被褥，裹紧我吧。将你蓝色、紫色的梦倾入我的耳朵。微风对着百叶窗低语，喃喃讲述着旧日的奇异故事。铺着鹅卵石的街道，少年们骑马奔下大理石台阶。淡蓝的薰衣草，你是这清和爽朗的夜晚里天空的颜色……我闻到了星星的味道……它们闻起来就像郁金香和水仙……我在空气中闻到了它们的味道。
（译者单位：北京化工大学）