作品原文

卞之琳 《西长安街》

长的是斜斜的淡淡的影子，
枯树的，树下走着的老人的
和老人撑着的手杖的影子，
都在墙上，晚照里的红墙上，
红墙也很长，墙外的蓝天，
北方的蓝天也很长，很长。
啊！老人，这道儿你一定觉得是长的，这冬天的日子
也觉得长吧？是的，我相信。
看，我也走近来了，真不妨
一路谈谈话儿，谈谈话儿呢。
可是我们却一声不响，
只跟着，跟着个人的影子
走着，走着……
走了多少年了，
这些影子，这些影子呢？
前进又前进，又前进又前进，
到了旷野上，开出长城去吗？
仿佛有马号，是一大队骑兵
在前进，面对着一大轮朝阳，
朝阳是每个人的红脸，马蹄
扬起了金尘，十丈高，二十丈——
什么也没有，我依然在街边，也不见旧日的老人两三个
黄衣兵站在一个大门前，
（这可是司令部？当年的什么府？）
他们像墓碑直立在那里
不做声，不谈话，还思念乡土，
东北天底下的乡土？一定的！
可是这时候想也是徒然，
纵然想起这时候敌人的
几匹战马到家园的井旁
去喝水了，这时候一群家鸡
到高粱地里去彷徨了，也想
哪儿是暂时的住家呢。拍拍！
什么？枪声！打哪儿来的？
土枪声！自家底！不怕，不怕！……
可是蟋蟀声早已浸透了
青纱帐，青纱帐早已褪色了！
你想吗，一点用处也没有了！
明天再想吧，这时候只好
不作声，不谈话。低下头来吧。
看汽车掠过长街的柏油道，
多“摩登”，多舒服！尽管威风
可哪儿比得上从前的大旗
红日下展出满脸的笑容！
如果不相信，可以问前头
那三座大红门，如今怅望着
秋阳了。
啊！夕阳下我有
一个好朋友，他是在一所
更古老的城里，这时候怎样了？
说不定从一条荒街上走过，
伴着斜斜的淡淡的长影子？
告诉我你新到长安的印象吧，
（我身边仿佛有你的影子）
朋友，我们不要学老人，
谈谈话儿吧……

英文译文

West Changan Street
Bian Zhilin

Long is the slanting, slanting, faint shadows
Of dead trees, of the old man walking under the trees,
Of the cane on which he leans,
All upon the wall, the red wall of the afterglow.
Long also is the red wall, the blue sky beyond the wall,
The blue sky of the North is very long, very long.
O! Old man, this road, to you, must be
Long? The days in winter, to you, must be also
Very long? Yes, I believe.
Look! I am now closer, why not
Talk as we walk, about this, about that?
But we say nothing to each other,
We only follow, follow each other’s shadow,
Walking, walking…
How many years now,
These shadows walking, these long walking shadows?
On and on, and on and on,
To the wilderness, marching to the Great Wall?
Sounds of bugles, it seems. A big squad of cavalry
Moves on, facing a big circle of morning sun.
The morning sun is each person’s red face; horse hooves
Raise golden dust, ten feet, twenty-feet high.
Nothing, nothing at all. I am still on the sidewalk,
Nor do I see the old man of former times; two or three
Soldiers in yellow uniforms standing before the main gate,
(Army headquarters? Once a so-and-so prefecture?)
They stand three upright like tombstones,
Making no sound, no conversation, and thinking of home,
Of home under the sky of the Northeast? Must be……
But to think of it now is useless,
Even if they think of the enemy’s war horses now
Drinking water by the well of
Their home, or of a group of chickens
Wandering uneasily into sorghum fields, also
Of not knowing where their temporary home be! Thud, thud.
What? Gunshots? Where from?
Local-made guns! Our own! No fear, no fear……
But the singing of crickets has already seeped through
The green silk cover, now all faded!
Thinking? Not a bit of use at all!
Think tomorrow. Now do nothing but
Keep quiet, no conversation, but come head-lowered.
Look at the cars flash past the long boulevard.
How “modern”! how comfortable! Martial-looking, eh…
But how can they be compared to the large flags of former times?
A whole face of broad smiles under the red sun!
If you don’t believe me, ask the three big red doors
In front, now sadly facing
The autumn sun.
Ah! under the setting sun
I have an old friend who is living in
A much older city, how is he now?
Perhaps he is walking past a deserted street
Accompanying a long, slanting, faint shadow?
Tell me your first impressions of Changan.
(By my side there seems to be your shadow)
Friend, don’t follow the example of the old man;
Let us talk……