The Weary Blues

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,

Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

I heard a Negro play.

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night

By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

He did a lazy sway . . .

He did a lazy sway . . .

To the tune o' those Weary Blues.

With his ebony hands on each ivory key

He made that poor piano moan with melody.

O Blues!

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool

He played that sad craggy tune like a musical fool.

Sweet Blues!

Coming from a black man's soul.

O Blues!

In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone

I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--

"Aren’t got nobody in this entire world,

aren’t got nobody but ma self.

It’s gained to quit ma frowning'

and put ma troubles on the shelf."

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.

He played a few chords then he sang some more--

"I got the Weary Blues

and I can't be satisfied.

Got the Weary Blues

And can't be satisfied--

I am not happy no mo'

And I wish that I had died."

And far into the night he crooned that tune.

The stars went out and so did the moon.

The singer stopped playing and went to bed

while the Weary Blues echoed through his head.

He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

忧郁的蓝调

兰斯敦·休斯

低沉的切分音符闷声闷气，

柔美的低吟摇来摆去，

我听见黑人演唱。

沿着利诺克斯大道的另一个夜晚

经过一盏破旧汽灯刻板的苍白

他懒散的摇摆…

他懒散的摇摆…

听那声音来自恼人的蓝调。

他用乌黑的双手抚摸象牙色琴键

他让那台可怜的钢琴发出悦耳的旋律。

噢　蓝调！

佝偻着背他在琴凳上来回摇摆

他像一个乐痴演奏那悲悯反常的曲调

甜蜜的蓝调！

来自一位黑人的灵魂。

噢　蓝调！

在深沉的歌声中拥有忧郁的气质

我听见黑人吟唱，那台破钢琴伴奏…

“这个世界罕有人迹，

只剩下我自己。

我打算不再蹙眉

把烦恼置于案几。”

砰，砰，砰，他的脚跺着地板。

他弹了几个和弦然后又唱了起来――

“我有蓝调

我不能满足。

有了蓝调

但不能满足――

我还是不幸福

我想死掉。”

他浅歌低吟直到深夜。

星星走了，月亮也走了。

歌者停止演唱上床睡觉

忧郁的蓝调还在他的梦中回响。

他睡得像块石头，像个死人。