世界上最火的古诗？

致云雀（诗）  雪莱

 诗歌原文

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!

Bird thou never wert,

That from Heaven, or near it,

Pourest thy full heart,

In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher,

From the earth thou springest,

Like a cloud of fire;

The blue deep thou wingest,

And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

In the golden lightning,

Of the sunken sun,

O‘er which clouds are bright’ning,

Thou dost float and run,

Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

The pale purple even,

Melts around thy flight;

Like a star of Heaven,

In the broad daylight,

Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight;

Keen as are the arrows,

Of that silver sphere,

Whose intense lamp narrows,

In the white dawn clear,

Until we hardly see--we feel that it is there.

All the earth and air,

With thy voice is loud.

As，when night is bare.

From one lonely cloud,

The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflowed.

What thou art we know not;

What is most like thee?

From rainbow clouds there flow not,

Drops so bright to see,

As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.

Like a poet hidden,

In the light of thought,

Singing hymns unbidden,

Till the world is wrought,

To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not;

Like a high-born maiden,

In a palace tower,

Soothing her love-laden,

Soul in secret hour,

With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower;

Like a glow-worm golden,

In a dell of dew,

Scattering unbeholden,

Its aerial hue.

Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:

Like a rose embowered,

In its own green leaves,

By warm winds deflowered,

Till the scent it gives,

Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-winged thieves.

Sound of vernal showers,

On the twinkling grass,

Rain-awakened flowers,

All that ever was,

Joyous， and clear，and fresh，thy music doth surpass.

Teach us，sprite or bird,

What sweet thoughts are thine,

I have never heard,

Praise of love or wine,

That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

Chorus hymeneal,

Or triumphal chaunt,

Matched with thine, would be all,

But an empty vaunt,

A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

What objects are the fountains,

Of thy happy strain?

What fields, or waves, or mountains?

What shapes of sky or plain?

What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?

With thy clear keen joyance,

Languor cannot be,

Shadow of annoyance,

Never came near thee.

Thou lovest，but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.

Waking or asleep,

Thou of death must deem,

Things more true and deep,

Than we mortals dream,

Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

We look before and after,

And pine for what is not,

Our sincerest laughter,

With some pain is fraught;

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Yet if we could scorn,

Hate ，and pride，and fear;

If we were things born,

Not to shed a tear,

I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

Better than all measures,

Of delightful sound,

Better than all treasures,

That in books are found,

Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

Teach me half the gladness,

That thy brain must know,

Such harmonious madness,

From my lips would flow,

The world should listen then, as I am listening now!

 诗歌译文

致云雀

（英）雪莱——江枫译

你好呵，欢乐的精灵！

你似乎从不是飞禽，

从天堂或天堂的邻边，

以酣畅淋漓的乐音，

不事雕琢的艺术，倾吐你的衷心。

向上，再向高处飞翔，

从地面你一跃而起，

像一片烈火的青云，

掠过蔚蓝的天心，

永远歌唱着飞翔，飞翔着歌唱。

地平线下的太阳，

放射出金色的电闪，

晴空里霞蔚云蒸，

你沐浴着明光飞行，

似不具形体的喜悦刚开始迅疾的远去。

淡淡的绛紫色黄昏，

在你的航程周围消融，

像昼空的一颗星星，

虽然，看不见形影，

却可以听得清你那欢乐的强音——

那犀利明快的乐音，

似银色星光的利剑，

它那强烈的明灯，

在晨曦中逐渐暗淡，

直到难以分辨，却能感觉到就在空中。

整个大地和大气，

响彻你婉转的歌声，

仿佛在荒凉的黑夜，

从一片孤云背后，

明月射出光芒，清辉洋溢宇宙。

我们不知你是什么

什么和你最为相似？

从霓虹似的彩霞，

也难降这样美的雨，

能和随你出现降下的乐曲甘霖相较。

像一位诗人，

隐身在思想的明辉之间。

吟诵着即兴的诗韵，

直到普天下的同情，

都被未曾留意过的希望和忧虑唤醒。

像一位高贵的少女，

居住在深宫的楼台，

在寂寞难言的时刻，

排遣为爱所苦的情愫，

甜美有如爱情的歌曲溢出闺阁之外。

像一只金色的萤火虫，

在凝露的深山幽谷，

不显露出行止影踪，

把晶莹的流光传播，

在遮断我们视线的鲜花芳草丛间。

像被她自己的绿叶

荫蔽着的一朵玫瑰，

遭受到热风的摧残，

直到它的馥郁芬芳

以过浓的香甜使鲁莽的飞贼沉醉。

晶莹闪烁的草坪，

春霖洒落时的声息，

雨后苏醒了的花蕾，

称得上明朗、欢悦，

清新的一切，都及不上你的音乐。

飞禽或是精灵，

有什么甜美的思绪在你心头？

我从来没有听到过，

爱情或是醇酒的颂歌，

能够迸涌出这样神圣的极乐之音。

是赞婚的合唱也罢，

是凯旋的欢歌也罢，

和你的乐声相比，

不过是空洞的浮景，

人们可以觉察到，其中总有着空虚。

什么样的物象或事件，

是你那欢歌的源泉？

田野、波涛或山峦？

空中、陆上的形态？

是对同类的爱，还是对痛苦的抵触？

有你明澈强烈的欢快，

使倦怠永不会出现悲懊

烦恼的阴影从来

接近不得你的身边，

你爱，却从不知晓过分充满爱的悲。

是醒来或是睡去，

你对死亡的理解一定比

我们凡人梦到的

更加深刻真切，否则

你的乐曲音流，怎么像液态的水晶涌泻？

我们瞻前顾后，为了

不存在的事物自忧，

我们最真挚的笑，

也交织着某种痛苦，

我们最美的音乐，是最能倾诉哀思的曲调。

可是，即使我们能摈弃

憎恨、傲慢和恐惧，

即使我们生来不能

抛洒一滴眼泪，

我们也不知，怎样才能接近于你的欢愉。

比一切欢乐的音律，

更加甜蜜美妙，

比一切书中的宝库，

更加丰盛富饶，

这就是鄙弃尘土的你啊你的艺术技巧。

教给我一半你的心

必定是熟知的欢喜，

和谐、炽热的激情

就会流出我的双唇，

全世界就会像此刻的我——侧耳倾听。