济慈诗歌和书信选(英文版)20 Deep in the Shady Sadness of a Vale

 　　Deep in the Shady Sadness of a Vale

　　DEEP in the shady sadness of a vale
　　Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
　　Far from the fiery 1 noon, and eve’s one star,
　　Sat gray-hair’d Saturn 2, quiet as a stone,
　　Still as the silence round about his lair 3;
　　Forest on forest hung about his head
　　Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
　　Not so much life as on a summer’s day
　　Robs not one light seed from the feather’d grass,
　　But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.
　　A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more
　　By reason of his fallen divinity
　　Spreading a shade: the Naiad ’mid her reeds
　　Press’d her cold finger closer to her lips.
　　Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
　　No further than to where his feet had stray’d,
　　And slept there since. Upon the sodden 4 ground
　　His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead,
　　Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;
　　While his bow’d head seem’d list’ning to the Earth,
　　His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
　　It seem’d no force could wake him from his place;
　　But there came one, who with a kindred hand
　　Touch’d his wide shoulders, after bending low
　　With reverence 5, though to one who knew it not.
　　She was a Goddess of the infant world;
　　By her in stature 6 the tall Amazon
　　Had stood a pigmy’s height: she would have ta’en
　　Achilles by the hair and bent 7 his neck;
　　Or with a finger stay’d Ixion’s wheel.
　　Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,
　　Pedestal’d haply in a palace court,
　　When sages 8 look’d to Egypt for their lore 9.
　　But oh! how unlike marble was that face:
　　How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
　　Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty’s self.
　　There was a listening fear in her regard,
　　As if calamity 10 had but begun;
　　As if the vanward clouds of evil days
　　Had spent their malice 11, and the sullen 12 rear
　　Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
　　One hand she press’d upon that aching spot
　　Where beats the human heart, as if just there,
　　Though an immortal 13, she felt cruel pain:
　　The other upon Saturn’s bended neck
　　She laid, and to the level of his ear
　　Leaning with parted lips, some words she spake
　　In solemn tenour and deep organ tone:
　　Some mourning words, which in our feeble tongue
　　Would come in these like accents; O how frail 14
　　To that large utterance 15 of the early Gods!
　　“Saturn, look up!—though wherefore, poor old King?
　　“I have no comfort for thee, no not one:
　　“I cannot say, “O wherefore sleepest thou?’
　　“For heaven is parted from thee, and the earth
　　“Knows thee not, thus afflicted 16, for a God;
　　“And ocean too, with all its solemn noise,
　　“Has from thy sceptre pass’d; and all the air
　　“Is emptied of thine hoary 17 majesty 18.
　　“Thy thunder, conscious of the new command,
　　“Rumbles reluctant o’er our fallen house;
　　“And thy sharp lightning in unpractised hands
　　“Scorches and burns our once serene 19 domain 20.
　　“O aching time! O moments big as years!
　　“All as ye pass swell 21 out the monstrous 22 truth,
　　“And press it so upon our weary griefs
　　“That unbelief has not a space to breathe.
　　“Saturn, sleep on:—O thoughtless, why did I
　　“Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude 23?
　　“Why should I ope thy melancholy 24 eyes?
　　“Saturn, sleep on! while at thy feet I weep.”