I said: “There is an end of my desire:
Now have I sown, and I have harvested, And these are ashes of an ancient fire, Which, verily, shall not be quickened.
Now will I take me to a place of peace, Forget mine heart’ s desire;
In solitude and prayer, work out my soul’ s release.
“I shall forget her eyes, how cold they were;
Forget her voice, how soft it was and low, With all my singing that she did not hear, And all my service that she did not know.
I shall not hold the merest memory Of any days that were,
Within those solitudes where I will fasten me.”
And once she passed, and once she raised her eyes, And smiled for courtesy, and nothing said:
And suddenly the old flame did uprise, And all my dead desire was quickened.
Yea! as it hath been, it shall ever be,
Most passionless, pure eyes!
Which never shall grow soft, nor change, nor pity me.
二十三、無法自拔
我說：“我的慾望到了盡頭 現在我已耕耘，而後也已收穫
這一切都是灰燼，來自一把曩昔的火 一把再也點不燃的火
現在我要向一處寧靜的地方走 去把心中的慾望拋向腦後
在孤獨與祈禱中，讓我的靈魂解脫
我會忘卻她的雙眼，有多麼冷漠 忘卻她的聲音，有多麼柔和微弱 我的嘆息，她都不曾聽過
我所作的一切，她又何嘗懂過 我從禁錮自己的孤獨中趕走 往昔的回憶，不再棧戀任何時候 那怕一絲一毫也不留
而一旦當她經過，一旦她舉目抬頭 微笑問候，什麼也沒說：
驀地，又竄起舊日的那把火 俱成灰燼的慾念卻又復活
是的，過去如此，也將永遠這樣，都是那雙 最無情的純潔眼眸！
永不轉柔，永遠依舊，永不憐憫我
[24] A REQUIEM
Neobule,77 being tired,
Far too tired to laugh or weep, From the hours, rosy and gray, Hid her golden face away.
Neobule, fain of sleep, Slept at last as she desired!
Neobule! is it well,
That you haunt the hollow lands, Where the poor , dead people stray, Ghostly, pitiful and gray,
77 Flower. The Poetry of Ernest Dowson, 254: “ Neobule, a beautiful woman to whom Horace addressed the twelfth Ode of his third Book, Ad Neobulem.” The stanza in which the name appears: “ How unhappy are the maidens who with Cupid may not play, / Who may never touch the wine-cup, but must tremble all the day / At an uncle and the scourging of his tongue! / Neobule, there’ s a robber takes your needle and your thread, / Let the lessons of Minerva run no longer in your head;” (taken from
Plucking, with their spectral hands, Scentless blooms of asphodel?
Neobule, tired to death Of the flowers that I threw On her flower-like, fair feet, Sighed for blossoms not so sweet, Lunar roses pale and blue,
Lilies of the world beneath.
Neobule! ah, too tired
Of the dreams and days above!
Where the poor, dead people stray, Ghostly, pitiful and gray,
Out of life and out of love,
Sleeps the sleep which she desired.
二十四、追思曲
妳，倦了
倦得沒有笑聲，沒有淚 在緋紅抑或灰靄的時節
Kraemer.)
都已不見她的容光燦璀 妳，一心想睡
終於，如願睡了
妳，是否可好？
當妳寄身在虛冥之地 那裡，已故的亡者游盪 駭人，陰森，又令人感傷 伸著他們枯槁的雙手採集 不曾飄香的冥界花草
妳，倦得人寰撒手 厭倦了的花，是我留下 在潔美如花的腳邊
而你盼的花簇非如此香甜 蒼涼藍鬱的玫瑰開在月下 以及陰間的百合朵朵
妳，啊！好倦好倦了 倦人間的夢想與光陰 彼處，已故的亡者游盪 駭人，陰森，又令人感傷 不懂愛，不懂生命
一得如願的長眠，睡著