By June our brook's run out of song and speed.

Sought for much after that, it will be found

Either to have gone groping underground

(And taken with it all the Hyla breed

That shouted in the mist a month ago,

Like ghost of sleigh bells in a ghost of snow)---

Or flourished and come up in jewelweed,

Weak foliage that is blown upon land bent

Even against the way its waters wnt.

Its bed is left a faded paper sheet

Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat---

A brook to none but who remember long.

This as it will be seen is other far

Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.

We love the things we love for what they are.

一到六月，我們的小溪就不流也不唱了。

再過一陣子去看，便會發現溪水

要嘛，全摸索到地底下去了

（連帶著所有的雨蛙族

一個月前，牠們還在迷霧之中叫著，

像雪橇鈴的鬼魂在雪花的鬼魂之中‥‥）

要嘛，就揮舞著，在水金鳳裡冒了上來，

細瘦的葉子在岸上被風吹斜

而且還是背著流水的方向斜。

留下溪床，一張褪色的紙片

上面滿是枯死的葉子，被晒得黏貼在一起‥‥

除了記性好的以外，誰也認不出這是一條溪流

可以想見的是，這條溪流與一路唱著流向

其他地方的許多溪流是太不相同了。

我們愛吾所愛，無他，愛其本色而已。

-----by Robert Frost 1874-1963

27.The Bight 海灣

[ON MY BIRTHDAY]生日紀念

At low tide like this how sheer the water is.

White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and glare

and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matches,

Absorbing, rather than being absorbed,

the water in the bight doesn't wet anything,

the color of the gas flame turned as low as possible.

One can smell it turning to gas; if one were Baudelaire

one could probably hear it turning to marimba music.

The little ocher dredge at work off the end of the dock

already plays the dry perfectly off-beat claves.

The birds are outsize. Pelicans crash

into this peculiar gas unnecessarily hard.

it seems to me, like pickaxes,

rarely coming up with anything to show for it,

and going off with humorous elbowings,

Black-and-white man-of-war birds soar

on impalpable drafts

and open their tails like scissors on the curves

or tense them like wishbones, till they tremble.

The frowsy sponge boats keep coming in

with the obliging air of retrievers,

bristling with jackstraw gaffs and hooks

and decorated with bobbles of sponges.

There is a fence of chicken wire along the dock

where, glinting like little plowshares,

the blue-gray shark tails are hung up to dry

for the Chinese-restaurant trade.

Some of the little white boats are still piled up

against each other, or lie on their sides, stove in,

and not yet salvaged, if they ever will be, from the last bad storm.

like torn-open, unanswered letters.

the bight is littered with old correspondences.

Click. Click. Goes the dredge,

and brings up a dripping jawful of marl.

All the untidy activity continues,

awful but cheerful.

海潮退到這樣的時候，水便分外清澈了。

白色的石灰泥灘，層層露出水來，浪紋斑駁，閃耀亮眼。

條條小船，晒得乾乾的；根根木樁，則乾得像火柴棒。

吸收而非被吸收，

海灣裡的水弄不濕任何東西，

而且呈現出一種瓦斯火開至最低時的顏色。

你可以聞到那海水正轉化成瓦斯；假如你是波特萊爾的話

你說不定可以聽到那海水正轉化成馬林巴木琴的聲音。

而碼頭尾端，一個褐色小型撈網正在那裡撈著

一直在那裡以絕對冷硬的調子，打著雙節棒，伴奏著。

水鳥都是特大號的。鵜鶘嘩啦衝

入這一泓奇異的瓦斯之中，真是小題大作，

這景象對我來說，有點像鶴嘴鋤，

一鋤下去，拉回來看看，什麼也沒有，

於是只好游到一邊，樣子滑稽的擠入鵜鶘堆裡去了。

黑白相間的軍艦鳥翱翔在

捉摸不定的氣流裏

尾巴張開，如剪刀彎彎裁過

尾巴緊繃，如叉骨繃然顫動。

腥臭的海綿船不斷的開了進來

以一種獵狗啣回東西般的殷勤姿態，

上面豎立著稻草人般的魚叉魚鉤

裝飾著垂懸吊幌的海綿。

沿著碼頭，有一排方格鐵絲網牆

上面，掛著閃閃發光犁刀般

灰藍鯊的尾巴，一條條的，在那裡風乾，

準備賣給中國餐館。

一些白色的小船，仍然相互靠在一起

堆著放，或側著放，船身破裂，

還沒修好（要是將來真還會去修的話），都是上回暴風弄壞的，

像一封封拆開而沒有回覆的信。

這小海灣內到處都丟著廢棄的信件。

卡啦卡啦，撈網上下撈著，

撈上來滴滴答答一大堆石灰泥。

所有亂七八糟的事都在進行著，糟是糟透了，不過卻滿愉快的。

　----- by Elizabeth Bishop 1911-1979

28.Pippa's Song琵琶之歌

The year's at the spring, 一年之計在於春，

And day's at the morn; 一日之計在於晨；

Morning's at seven; 一晨之計在於七時；

The hillside's dew-pearled; 山坡上裝點著珍珠般的露水珠露；

the lark's on the wing; 雲雀在風中飛躍；

The snail's on the thorn; 山壚上蝸牛爬行

God's in his heaven---神在天堂司宇宙

All's right with the world! 世上一切都太平！

~~~by Robert Browning, 1812-1889

29.My Heart Leaps Up我心雀躍

My heart leaps up when I behold 當天邊彩虹映入眼簾，

A rainbow in the sky: 我心為之雀躍；

So was it when my life began; 初生時即如此，

So is it now I am a man; 我現在仍不變，

So be it when I shall grow old, 將來也會如此，

Or let me die! 否則我寧願死去！

The Child is father of the Man; 兒童是成人之父；

And I could wish my days to be願自然虔誠的意念，將我生涯的每個日子連串起來。

Bound each to each by natural piety. 自幼至老，深信不移。

~~~by William Wordsworth, 1770-1850

30.The Sea海

(1)

The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea!海啊！海啊！遼闊的大海！

The blue, the fresh, the ever free! 碧藍，清新，永遠地自由自在！

Without a mark, without a bound, 沒有標誌，沒有境界，

It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round; 它圍繞著大地；

It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies; 與雲彩嬉戲，向蒼穹嘲弄；

Or like a cradled creature lies. 間或嬰兒似地靜躺在搖籃裏。

(2)

I'm on the Sea! I'm on the Sea! 我在海上！我在海上！

I am where I would ever be; 這兒是我永遠願待的地方；

With the blue above, and the blue below, 上有藍藍的天，下有藍藍的海，

And silence wheresoe'er I go; 處處都是一片寂寞，

If a storm should come and awake the deep,即使風浪將來喚醒大海，

What matter? I shall ride and sleep.有甚麼關係？駕舟，就寢皆由我。

(3)

I love (oh! how I love) to ride 我樂於（啊！我多麼樂於）航行，

On the fierce foaming bursting tide,在泡沫兇惡而崩裂的潮水上，

When every mad wave drowns the moon, 此時狂浪吞沒了月影，

Or whistles aloft his tempest tune, 嘯聲高奏著風暴曲，

And tells how goes the world below, 傾訴底下的世界是何等模樣，

And why the south-west blasts do blow. 西南風又為何而吹。

(4)

I never was on the dull tame shore 我從不留戀單調溫馴的海岸，

but I lov'd the great Sea more and more, 只是愈來愈沈迷於海上，

And backwards flew to her billowy breast, 像鳥兒尋找母巢一般，

Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest; 忽忙地飛回那濤濤巨浪的懷抱；

And mother she was, and is to me; 對我而言她就是慈母；

For I was born on the open Sea! 因為我生長在海上！

~~~by Bryan W. Procter, 1787-1874