A Prayer for My Daughter
A Prayer for My Daughter
By William Bulter Yeats
Recitalist: President Michael D. Higgins
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory’s wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind,
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
And under the arches of the bridge, and scream
In the elms above the flooded stream;
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eye distraught,
Or hers before a looking-glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right, and never find a friend.
Helen being chosen found life flat and dull
And later had much trouble from a fool,
While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray,
Being fatherless could have her way
Yet chose a bandy-leggèd smith for man.
It’s certain that fine women eat
A crazy salad with their meat
Whereby the Horn of Plenty is undone.
In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned;
Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned
By those that are not entirely beautiful;
Yet many, that have played the fool
For beauty’s very self, has charm made wise,
And many a poor man that has roved,
Loved and thought himself beloved,
From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.
My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If there’s no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.
An intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed.
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of Plenty’s horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?
Considering that, all hatred driven hence,
The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is Heaven’s will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl
Or every bellows burst, be happy still.
And may her bridegroom bring her to a house
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and hatred are the wares
Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How but in custom and in ceremony
Are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremony’s a name for the rich horn,
And custom for the spreading laurel tree.
A Prayer for My Daughter
为我女儿的祈祷
作者：威廉·巴特勒·叶芝［爱尔兰］
为你读诗：迈克尔·希金斯 | 爱尔兰总统
风暴又一次咆哮；半掩
在这摇篮的篷罩和被巾下面，
我的孩子依然安睡。除去
格雷戈里的森林和一座秃丘
再没有任何屏障足以阻挡
那起自大西洋上的掀屋大风；
我踱步祈祷已一个时辰，
因为那巨大阴影笼罩在我心上。
为这幼女我踱步祈祷了一个时辰，
耳听着海风呼啸在高塔顶，
在拱桥下，在泛滥的溪水上，
在溪上的榆树林中回荡；
在快乐的迷狂中幻梦
未来的岁月已经来到：
踏着狂乱的鼓点舞蹈，
来自大海残酷的天真。
愿她被人承认美丽，
但不至使陌生人的眼光痴迷，
或使自己在镜前心醉，因为
一旦生得过分地艳丽，
便会把美看作是最终的满足，
从而丧失天性的善良，还可能
失去推心置腹的莫逆交情，
永远也找不到一个朋友。
海伦命定要感到生活平淡，
后来因一个蠢汉惹来许多麻烦，
而那从浪花中升起的伟大女王，
因没有生父而可以自做主张，
却选中了一个瘸腿铁匠做男人。
无疑娇贵的女人们喜欢
吃肉时佐以古怪的生菜冷盘，
丰饶角因此而被糟蹋罄尽。
我要让她首先精通礼节；
心灵不可视为天赐，而是那些
并不十分美丽的人所挣得；
而许多曾为美而美的蠢货
已经将魅力变成了智慧，
还有不少曾经漫游的穷汉，
爱恋过并自认为曾被爱恋，
现在目光已离不开令人欢悦的仁爱。
愿她成为一株繁茂的绿树，
红雀就好象她全部的思绪，
没有劳形的事务，只是慷慨地
四处播送着它们宏亮的鸣啼，
只是在欢乐中相互嬉逐，
只是在欢乐中你吵我争。
呵，但愿她象月桂那样长青
植根在一个可爱的永恒之处。
近来，由于我曾喜爱的那些心意
和我曾赞赏的那种美丽
皆是昙花一现，我的心灵已枯竭，
但仍知一旦为仇恨所壅塞
才定然是最可怕的厄运。
假如心灵中毫无仇恨，
那厉风的袭击再烈再猛
也绝不能将红雀和绿叶撕分。
理智的仇恨为害最甚，
因此教她把观念视为可憎。
难道我不曾眼见那诞生
自丰饶角之口的最美丽的女人，
只因她观念固执的心肠，
用温和的天性所了解的
每一种美德和那只羊角
换取了一只充满愤怒的旧风箱？
想到此，一切仇恨被驱逐散尽，
灵魂恢复了根本的天真，
终于得知那是自娱自乐，
自慰自安，自惊自吓，
它自己的美好愿望就是天意；
尽管每一张面孔都会恼怒，
每一处风源都会咆哮，或每一组
风箱都会胀破，但她会依然欢喜。
还愿她的新郎引她入洞房，
那里一切寻常，庄重堂皇；
因为傲慢和仇恨都不过
是大路两旁零售的杂货。
除了在风俗和礼仪之中，
纯真和美丽如何诞生？
礼仪是丰饶角的别名，
风俗是繁盛的桂树的名称。
