荷塘月色三个译文Word文档格式.docx

荷塘月色三个译文Word文档格式.docx

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我悄悄地披了大衫，带上门出去。

沿着荷塘，是一条曲折的小煤屑路。

这是一条幽僻的路；

白天也少人走，夜晚更加寂寞。

荷塘四面，长着许多树，蓊蓊郁郁的。

路的一旁，是些杨柳，和一些不知道名字的树。

没有月亮的晚上，这路上阴森森的，有些怕人。

今晚却很好。

虽然月光也还是淡淡的。

曲曲折折的荷塘上面，弥望的是田田的叶子。

叶子出水很高，像亭亭的舞女的裙。

层层的叶子中间，零星地点缀着些白花，有袅娜地开着的，有羞涩地打着朵儿的；

正如一粒粒的明珠，又如碧天里的星星，又如刚出浴的美人。

微风过处，送来缕缕清香，仿佛远处高楼上渺茫的歌声似的。

这时候叶子与花也有一丝的颤动，像闪电般，霎时传过荷塘的那边去了。

叶子本是肩并肩密密地挨着，这便宛然有了一道凝碧的波痕。

叶子底下是脉脉的流水，遮住了，不能见一些颜色；

而叶子却更见风致了。

月光如流水一般，静静地泻在这一片叶子和花上。

薄薄的青雾浮起在荷塘里。

叶子和花仿佛在牛乳中洗过一样；

又像笼着轻纱的梦。

虽然是满月，天上却有一层淡淡的云，所以不能朗照；

但我以为这恰是到了好处——酣眠固不可少，小睡也别有风味的。

月光是隔了树照过来的，高处丛生的灌木，落上参差的斑驳的黑影，峭楞楞如鬼一般；

弯弯的杨柳的稀疏的倩影，像是画在荷叶上。

塘中的月色并不均匀；

但光与影有着和谐的旋律，如梵婀玲上奏着的名曲。

荷塘的四面，远远近近，高高低低都是树,而杨柳最多。

这些树将一片荷塘重重围住;

只在小路一旁,漏着几段空隙,像是特为月光留下的,树色一例是阴阴的,乍看像一团烟雾;

但杨柳的丰姿，便在烟雾里也辨得出。

树梢上隐隐约约的是一带远山，只有些大意罢了。

树缝里也漏着一两点路灯光，没精打采的，是瞌睡人的眼。

这时候最热闹的，要数树上的蝉声与水里的蛙声，但热闹是他们的，我什么也没有。

忽然想起采莲的事情来了。

采莲是江南的旧俗，似乎很早就有，而六朝时为盛；

从诗歌里可以约略知道。

于是又记起《西洲曲》里的句子：

采莲南塘秋，

莲花过人头；

低头弄莲子，

莲子青如水。

今晚若有采莲人，这儿的莲花也算得“过人头”了；

只不见一些流水的影子，是不行的。

这令我到底惦着江南了。

——这样想着，猛一抬头，不觉已是自己的门前；

轻轻地推门进去，什么声息也没有，妻已睡熟好久了。

朱纯深译文

Ihavefeltquiteupsetrecently.Tonight,whenIwassittingintheyardenjoyingthecool,itoccurredtomethattheLotusPond,whichIpassbyeveryday,mustassumequiteadifferentlookinsuchmoonlitnight.Afullmoonwasrisinghighinthesky;

thelaughterofchildrenplayingoutsidehaddiedaway;

intheroom,mywifewaspattingtheson,Run-er,sleepilyhummingacradlesong.Shruggingonanovercoat,quietly,Imademywayout,closingthedoorbehindme.

AlongsidetheLotusPondrunsasmallcinderfootpath.Itispeacefulandsecludedhere,aplacenotfrequentedbypedestrianseveninthedaytime;

nowatnight,itlooksmoresolitary,inalush,shadyambienceoftreesallaroundthepond.Onthesidewherethepathis,therearewillows,interlacedwithsomeotherswhosenamesIdonotknow.Thefoliage,which,inamoonlessnight,wouldloomsomewhatfrighteninglydark,looksverynicetonight,althoughthemoonlightisnotmorethanathin,greyishveil.

Alloverthiswindingstretchofwater,whatmeetstheeyeisasilkenfieldofleaves,reachingratherhighabovethesurface,liketheskirtsofdancinggirlsinalltheirgrace.Hereandthere,layersofleavesaredottedwithwhitelotusblossoms,someindemurebloom,othersinshybud,likescatteringpearls,ortwinklingstars,orbeautiesjustoutofthebath.Abreezestirs,sendingoverbreathsoffragrance,likefaintsingingdriftingfromadistantbuilding.Atthismoment,atinythrillshootsthroughtheleavesandflowers,likeastreakoflightning,straightacrosstheforestoflotuses.Theleaves,whichhavebeenstandingshouldertoshoulder,arecaughttremblinginanemeraldheaveofthepond.Underneath,theexquisitewateriscoveredfromview,andnonecantellitscolour;

yettheleavesontopprojectthemselvesallthemoreattractively.

Themoonshedsherliquidlightsilentlyovertheleavesandflowers,which,inthefloatingtransparencyofabluishhazefromthepond,lookasiftheyhadjustbeenbathedinmilk,orlikeadreamwrappedinagauzyhood.Althoughitisafullmoon,shiningthroughafilmofclouds,thelightisnotatitsbrightest;

itis,however,justrightforme-aprofoundsleepisindispensable,yetasnatcheddozealsohasasavourofitsown.Themoonlightisstreamingdownthroughthefoliage,castingbushyshadowsonthegroundfromhighabove,darkandcheckered,likeanarmyofghosts;

whereasthebenignfiguresofthedroopingwillows,hereandthere,looklikepaintingsonthelotusleaves.Themoonlightisnotspreadevenlyoverthepond,butratherinaharmoniousrhythmoflightandshade,likeafamousmelodyplayedonaviolin.

Aroundthepond,farandnear,highandlow,aretrees.Mostofthemarewillows.Onlyonthepathsidecantwoorthreegapsbeseenthroughtheheavyfringe,asifspeciallyreservedforthemoon.Theshadowyshapesoftheleafageatfirstsightseemdiffusedintoamassofmist,againstwhich,however,thecharmofthosewillowtreesisstilldiscernible.Overthetreesappearsomedistantmountains,butmerelyinsketchysilhouette.Throughthebranchesarealsoacoupleoflamps,aslistlessassleepyeyes.Themostlivelycreatureshere,forthemoment,mustbethecicadasinthetreesandthefrogsinthepond.Butthelivelinessistheirs,Ihavenothing.

Suddenly,somethinglikelotus-gatheringcrossesmymind.ItusedtobecelebratedasafolkfestivalintheSouth,probablydatingveryfarbackinhistory,mostpopularintheperiodofSixDynasties.Wecanpickupsomeoutlinesofthisactivityinthepoetry.ThenIrecallthoselinesinBalladofXizhouIsland:

Gatheringthelotus,IamintheSouthPond,

Theliliesinautumnreachovermyhead;

LoweringmyheadItoywiththelotusseeds.

Look,theyareasfreshasthewaterunderneath.

Ifthereweresomebodygatheringlotusestonight,shecouldtellthattheliliesherearehighenoughtoreachoverherhead;

butonewouldcertainlymissthesightofthewater.SomymemoriesdriftbacktotheSouthafterall.Deepinmythoughts,Ilookedup,justtofindmyselfatthedoorofmyownhouse.GentlyIpushedthedooropenandwalkedin.Notasoundinside,mywifehadbeenfastasleepforquiteawhile.

王椒升译文

Oflate,Ihavebeeninaratheruneasyframeofmind.Sittinginmycourtyardenjoyingthecoolevening,IsuddenlythoughtofthelotuspondthatIpassonmywaydayinanddayout.Tonight,itmusthaveacharmallitsown,bathedinthelightofthefullmoon.Themoonwasnowrisingslowly.Beyondthewall,thehappylaughterofchildrenontheroadhaddiedaway.Soputtingonmycoatquietly,Iwentoutclosingthedoorsoftlybehindme.

Apathpavedwithcoal-dustzigzagsalongthelotuspond,sosecludedastobelittlefrequentedinthedaytime,tosaynothingofitslonelinessatnight.Aroundthepondgrowsaprofusionofluxurianttrees.Ononesideofthepatharesomewillowsandotherplantswhosenamesareunknowntome.Onmoonlessnights,theplacehasagloomy,somewhatforbiddingappearance.Butonthisparticularevening,ithadacheerfuloutlook,thoughthemoonwaspale.

Ontheunevensurfaceofthepond,allonecouldseewasamassofleaves,allinterlacedandshootinghighabovethewaterliketheskirtsofslimdancinggirls.Theleavesweredottedinbetweenthelayerswithwhiteflowers,somebloominggracefully;

others,asifbashfully,stillinbud.Theywerelikebrightpearlsandstarsinanazuresky.Theirsubtlefragrancewaswaftedbythepassingbreeze,inwhiffsairyashenotesofasongcomingfaintlyfromsomedistanttower.Therewasatremoronleafandflower,which,withthesuddennessoflightning,soondriftedtothefarendofthepond.Theleaves,jostlingandoverlapping,produced,asitwere,awaveofdeepgreen.Undertheleaves,softlyhiddenfromview,waterwasripplingevenitscolourwasnotdiscerniblesothattheleaveslookedmoreenchanting.

Moonlightwasflowingquietlylikeastreamdowntotheleavesandflowers.Alightmistoverspreadthelotuspond.Leafandflowerseemedwashedinmilk.Moolightwasglowingfrombehindthetrees,andthedenseshrubsabovecastdowngloomyghostlikeshadowsofvaryinglengthsandshadesofcolour.Butthebeautifulsparseshadowsofthearchingwillowswerelikeapictureetchedonthelotusleaves.Unevenaswasthemoonlightoverthepond,therewasaharmonybetweenlightandshade,rhythmicasawell-knownmelodyplayedontheviolin.

Skirtingthelotuspond,farandnear,highandlow,aretreesamongwhichwillowspredominate.Theyentirelyenvelopthepond,leavingonlyafewspacesononesideofthepath,asifpurposelyforthemoonbeamstopenetrate.Thetreeswerenowallenshroudedinaheavygloom,whichatfirstsightlookedlikeapallofmist,butthelovelyshapeofthewillowsremaineddistinguishableinspiteofit.Distanthillsloomedabovethetree-topsindimoutline.Hereandthere,afewraysfromstreet-lampsfilteredthroughthetrees,listlessastheeyesofonewhoisdozing.Atthismoment,mostlivelywerethecicadaschirpinginthetreesandthefrogscroakingunderthewater.Buttheirswasallthemerry-making,inwhichIdidnothavetheleastshare.

Thenallofasudden,IwasremindedofthecustomofpluckinglotusseedsprevalentinJiangnan,handeddownprobablyfromaveryremoteperiodandbecomingquitepopularduringtheSixDynasties,asmaybeseenroughlyinsongsandpoemsthatsurvive.Thisinturnrevivedmymemoryofthefollowinglinesinthe“WestIsletDitty”:

InautumnIplucklotusseedsintheSouthPond,

Tallarethelotusplants,tallerthanme.

Myheadbentlow,withlotusseedsIplay,

Green,greenaswaterallthelotusseedsIsee.

Iftherewerepeoplepluckinglotusseedsheretonight,theymightindeedfindlotusplantsexceedingtheminheight;

buttheabsenceofthemerestshadowofflowingwaterwouldspoilit.AndthatiswhathassetmethinkingaboutJiangnan.

《中国文学》译文

Thelastfewdayshavefoundmeveryrestless.ThiseveningasIsatintheyardtoenjoythecool,itstruckmehowdifferentthelotuspoolIpasseverydaymustlookunderafullmoon.Themoonwassailinghigherandhigheruptheheavens,thesoundofchildishlaughterhaddiedawayfromthelanebeyondourwall,andmywifewasinthehousepattingRun’erandhummingalullabytohim.Iquietlyslippedonalonggown,andwalkedoutleavingthedooronthelatch.

Acinder-pathwindsalongbythesideofthepool.Itisoffthebeatentrackandfewpassthiswayevenbyday,soatnightitisstillmorequiet.Treesgrowthickandboskyallaroundthepool,withwillowsandothertreesIcannotnamebythepath.Onnightswhenthere