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| 2022/01/11 05:16:47瀏覽647｜回應0｜推薦5 | |
| Selected poems：《諾瓦利斯作品選集》之《夜頌》 歷史上許多被稱作天才的人物是可以打折扣的，但是在我看來，諾瓦利斯的確是一個天才。他只活了29歲，然而「他留下了德國思想史上最奇特和最神秘的作品」，「他寫下的那些玄奧文字……展示了精神的一切極限，展示了精神使人成為上帝以及對精神絕望的一切極限」(赫爾曼‧黑塞)。劉小楓先生也說：「其實，德意志浪漫派人物個個才思橫溢，為何諾瓦利斯顯得格外耀眼？」這恐怕只能歸結到他是「又一個耀眼地划過長空的流星式德意志天縱之才」。 天才大多銳利、專一、年輕氣盛，大師則厚實、全能、歷盡滄桑。若是以此衡量，諾瓦利斯也完全有資格歸入大師之列。在他身上，博大精深四個字都是實實在在的。先說博大，他撰寫的幾部斷片集中有一部取名為《百科全書》，而且名副其實，集子分為六個部分：一、哲學，二、數學與自然科學，三、醫學與心理學，四、語言學與藝術，五、國家學與人類學，六、宇宙學與宗教。他的思辨範圍可謂從遠古到當下再到未來，從自然到人再到神，外與內、肉與靈、生與死、有限與無限均無不涵蓋，而且大抵都打通了。再說精深，以他的代表作《夜頌》為例，其形質之精妙，似乎無與倫比，各位一讀便知。 ——林克，〈譯後記〉 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hymns_to_the_Night Hymns to the Night is a set of six poems written by the German Romantic poet Novalis between 1797 and 1800, often considered to be the climax of Novalis’ lyrical works and among the most important poetry of early German Romanticism. A revised version of the poems was published in the Athenaeum by Friedrich Schlegel in 1800. 書名：諾瓦利斯作品選集 作者：諾瓦利斯 譯者：林克 出版社：重慶大學出版社 出版日：2012/7 〈第一首頌歌〉 面對自己周圍的遼闊空間的一切神奇現象，哪個有活力、有感覺天賦的人不愛最賞心悅目的光——連同它的色彩、它的輻射和波動；它那柔和的無所不在，即喚醒的白晝。像生命的最內在的靈魂一樣呼吸它的，是永不休止的天體的恢弘世界，並且遨遊在它那藍色的潮水裡——還有閃亮的長眠的岩石，沉思的吮吸的植物和野性的狂熱的形形色色的動物——但是莫過於那個莊嚴的異鄉人，有著深邃的目光、飄逸的步容和輕輕抿住的淺吟低唱的嘴唇。猶如塵寰的一位君王，光令每種力量呈現無窮的變化，結成並解散無數的聯盟，讓它那天堂般的形象籠罩一切塵世之物。——唯獨它的親在展示出世間各王國的美景奇觀。 我朝下轉向神聖、隱秘、難以名狀的夜。這世界很偏僻——沉在一個深淵裡——它的地盤荒涼而寂寞。深深的悲情拂動著心弦。我欲化為露珠沉墜下去並與骨灰混合。——遙遠的回憶、青春的心願、童年的夢幻、漫長人生的短暫歡樂和註定落空的希望披著灰濛濛的衣衫紛至沓來，像日落後的暮靄。光已在別的空間搭起歡情的篷帳。難道它永遠不再到它那些懷著無罪的信念守候它的孩子們身邊？ 是什麼充滿預感突然從心下湧出，吞滅了悲情的軟風？你竟然喜歡我們，幽暗的夜？你在你的袍子裡藏著什麼，雖然看不見卻震動我的靈魂？珍貴的香膏從你手中、從那束罌粟花上滴落。你托起心靈的沉重翅膀。我們覺得受了感動，是一種朦朧的感覺，難以形容——我驚喜地窺見一張端莊的臉，它溫柔虔誠地垂向我，在無限纏繞的鬈髮中露出母親嫵媚的青春。現在我覺得光多麼貧乏和幼稚——白晝的離別多麼令人喜悅，簡直是一種恩惠。看來只因黑夜會使你的僕人們疏遠你，你才在廣袤的空間播下了閃亮的星球，好宣告你的全能——你的復歸——在你遠離的歲月裡。但那些無限的眼睛，彷彿比閃耀的星辰更神奇，是黑夜在我們心中開啟的。它們能看到最模糊的繁星之外——無需光亮即可望穿一顆摯愛的心靈的深底——這便使一個更高的空間充滿不可言說的情欲。請讚美宇宙的女王，神聖世界的崇高的報導者，極樂的愛的守護者——是她為我送來你——溫柔的愛人——黑夜的迷人的太陽，如今我醒來——因為我屬於你即屬於我——你宣告了夜是我的生命——你使我成為人——請以亡靈之火燃盡我的肉身，好讓我像空氣一樣與你更親密地融合，好讓新婚之夜從此永久延續。 BEFORE all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light, with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its azure flood; the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it; but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world. Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world, sunk in a deep grave; waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes.-- The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence? What springs up all at once so sweetly boding in my heart, and stills the soft air of sadness? Dost thou also take a pleasure in us, dark Night? What holdest thou under thy mantle, that with hidden power affects my soul? Precious balm drips from thy hand out of its bundle of poppies. Thou upliftest the heavy-laden wings of the soul. Darkly and inexpressibly are we moved: joy-startled, I see a grave face that, tender and worshipful, inclines toward me, and, amid manifold entangled locks, reveals the youthful loveliness of the Mother. How poor and childish a thing seems to me now the Light! how joyous and welcome the departure of the day!-- Didst thou not only therefore, because the Night turns away from thee thy servants, you now strew in the gulfs of space those flashing globes, to proclaim, in seasons of thy absence, thy omnipotence, and thy return? More heavenly than those glittering stars we hold the eternal eyes which the Night hath opened within us. Farther they see than the palest of those countless hosts. Needing no aid from the light, they penetrate the depths of a loving soul that fills a loftier region with bliss ineffable. Glory to the queen of the world, to the great prophet of the holier worlds, to the guardian of blissful love! she sends thee to me, thou tenderly beloved, the gracious sun of the Night. Now am I awake, for now am I thine and mine. Thou hast made me know the Night, and brought her to me to be my life; thou hast made of me a man. Consume my body with the ardour of my soul, that I, turned to finer air, may mingle more closely with thee, and then our bridal night endure for ever. 〈第四首頌歌〉 現在我知道，最後的早晨何時來臨——光何時不再驅逐夜和愛——小憩何時變得永恆，何時只有一個永不枯竭的夢。我心中感覺到一種天堂般的困倦。——去那聖墓的朝聖之旅曾經那麼遙遠，使我疲憊，十字架沉重不堪。晶瑩的波浪，非尋常的感官所能聽見，湧入墳塚幽喑的腹中，塵世的潮水在墳腳冒出，誰品嘗過那波浪，誰曾經站在這世界的分水嶺上，遙望那嶄新的國度，夜的居處——真的，他就不會再回到熙熙攘攘的塵世，再回到光所居住的那個永不安寧的國度。 他會在那上面給自己搭起草棚，寧靜的草棚，他會期望會愛，向遠方遙望，直到一切時辰中最受歡迎的那個時辰將他向下引入發源之泉——塵世之物浮向上面，又被風暴送回，但凡是受愛的感觸而變得神聖的，都將溶化並以隱秘的步驟流到彼岸的領域，在此像芳香一樣同入睡的愛人們混合。活潑的光，你仍在催喚這昏昏欲睡的人兒去工作——仍為我輸入快活的生命——可是你無法將我引離長滿苔蘚的回憶的碑柱。我樂意活動勤勞的雙手，處處留意你需要我的地方——讚歎你的光芒絢麗多彩——不懈地關注你的藝術品呈現的美麗的關聯——樂意觀察你那威武而閃耀的時鐘的意味深長的步伐——探索各種力量的均衡和無數空間及其時間的神奇遊戲的規則。但是我隱秘的心始終忠實於夜，以及創造的愛，夜的女兒。你能向我展示一顆忠貞不渝的心嗎？你的太陽有能認出我的含情的目光嗎？你的星星會握住我這只期求的手？會再次給我溫柔的擁抱和甜蜜的愛語嗎？是你用色彩和淺淺的輪廓裝飾了它——或反倒是它賦予你的修飾以更崇高更親切的含義？你的生命提供了哪種快感、哪種享樂，或可抵償死亡的狂喜？凡是令我們沉醉的不都帶有夜的色調？它像母親一樣馱負你，你的榮耀全都歸功於它。你會消散在你自身之中——你會湮滅在無盡的空間，倘若它不阻止你，拘束你，使你變暖、燃燒並繁衍世界。真的，在你存在之前，我已存在——母親派遣我來，同我的兄弟姊妹一道寄居在你的世界，以愛使它神聖，盼望它成為一座永遠被瞻仰的紀念碑——給它種上永不凋謝的鮮花。還尚未成熟，這些神的念頭。——我們的啟示的跡印還很稀少。——你的時鐘終將指到時間的終點，一旦你變得像我們之中的一員，滿懷渴望和激情熄滅並死去。我心中感覺到你的差役的終結——天堂的自由，極樂的返歸。在錐心蝕骨的痛苦中，我發覺你遠離我們的故鄉，你抗拒古老而美妙的天堂。你的憤怒和咆哮是徒勞的。豎立的十字架不可焚毀——我們這一族的勝利旗幟。 我去彼岸朝聖， 每一個苦難 遲早總有一天 把情欲點燃。 還有一點時間， 我就要離去， 我就要沉醉於 愛的懷腹裡。 我渾身翻湧著 無限的生命， 我俯瞰人世間， 想把你找尋。 你的光熄滅在 那座墳墓邊—— 一個幽靈送來 清涼的花環。 哦！吻我吧，情郎， 莫把嘴鬆開， 好讓我能入睡， 還能把你愛。 死亡之潮為我 把青春輸入， 我的血正化為 香膏和醇酒—— 在白天我活得 虔誠而堅毅， 懷著神聖的激情 夜裡我死去。 Now I know when will come the last morning: when the Light no more scares away the Night and Love, when sleep shall be without waking, and but one continuous dream. I feel in me a celestial exhaustion. Long and weariful was my pilgrimage to the holy grave, and crushing was the cross. The crystal wave, which, imperceptible to the ordinary sense, springs in the dark bosom of the mound against whose foot breaks the flood of the world, he who has tasted it, he who has stood on the mountain frontier of the world, and looked across into the new land, into the abode of the Night, verily he turns not again into the tumult of the world, into the land where dwells the Light in ceaseless unrest. On those heights he builds for himself tabernacles-- tabernacles of peace; there longs and loves and gazes across, until the welcomest of all hours draws him down into the waters of the spring. Afloat above remains what is earthly, and is swept back in storms; but what became holy by the touch of Love, runs free through hidden ways to the region beyond, where, like odours, it mingles with love asleep. Still wakest thou, cheerful Light, that weary man to his labour, and into me pourest gladsome life; but thou wilest me not away from Memorys moss-grown monument. Gladly will I stir busy hands, everywhere behold where thou hast need of me; bepraise the rich pomp of thy splendor; pursue unwearied the lovely harmonies of thy skilled handicraft; gladly contemplate the clever pace of thy mighty, radiant clock; explore the balance of the forces and the laws of the wondrous play of countless worlds and their seasons; but true to the Night remains my secret heart, and to creative Love, her daughter. Canst thou show me a heart eternally true? Has thy sun friendly eyes that know me? Do thy stars lay hold of my longing hand? Do they return me the tender pressure and the caressing word? Was it thou did bedeck them with colours and a flickering outline? Or was it she who gave to thy jewels a higher, a dearer significance? What delight, what pleasure offers thy life, to outweigh the transports of Death? Wears not everything that inspirits us the livery of the Night? Thy mother, it is she brings thee forth, and to her thou owest all thy glory. Thou wouldst vanish into thyself, thou wouldst dissipate in boundless space, if she did not hold thee fast, if she swaddled thee not, so that thou grewest warm, and flaming, gavest birth to the universe. Verily I was before thou wast; the mother sent me with sisters to inhabit thy world, to sanctify it with love that it might be an ever-present memorial, to plant it with flowers unfading. As yet they have not ripened, these thoughts divine; as yet is there small trace of our coming apocalypse. One day thy clock will point to the end of Time, and then thou shalt be as one of us, and shalt, full of ardent longing, be extinguished and die. I feel in me the close of thy activity, I taste heavenly freedom, and happy restoration. With wild pangs I recognize thy distance from our home, thy feud with the ancient, glorious Heaven. Thy rage and thy raving are in vain. Inconsumable stands the cross, victory-flag of our race. Over I pilgrim Where every pain Zest only of pleasure Shall one day remain. Yet a few moments Then free am I, And intoxicated In Loves lap lie. Life everlasting Lifts, wave-like, at me: I gaze from its summit Down after thee. Oh Sun, thou must vanish Yon yon hillock beneath; A shadow will bring thee Thy cooling wreath. Oh draw at my heart, love, Draw till Im gone, That, fallen asleep, I Still may love on. I feel the flow of Deaths youth-giving flood; To balsam and aether, it Changes my blood! I live all the daytime In faith and in might: And in holy rapture I die every night. https://www.starcenter.com/hymns.pdf Novalis - Hymns to the Night Translated by George MacDonald and found in Rampolli (1897). |
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