“歌声又飘过了河畔的芦苇丛，芦苇将这歌声里的话带给了大海”
2017/4/12
译者记：
文学翻译最难，也最为动情。夜深时细细咀嚼，有一两瞬的痴狂，便觉这一夜不枉费了。王尔德（Oscar Wilde）的文字是唯美的，读巴金译的《夜莺与蔷薇》时便已陶醉，读原文时、自己译时更是深陷其中，译文表情达意或有过度，文笔自不如大师，但自娱自乐也足够了。
原标题：The Nightingale and the Rose
原作者：Oscar Wilde**
And when the Moon shone in the heavens the Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast against the thorn. All night long she sang with her breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her breast, and her life-blood ebbed away from her.
当月亮升上天空，散发着光芒，夜莺便飞向那棵玫瑰树，让刺扎进她的胸膛。她整夜里唱着歌，刺扎在她的胸膛上，连那皎洁的冷月也俯下身来倾听。她整夜里唱着歌，刺深深扎在她的胸膛里，愈发深入，鲜血从她身体里流走。
She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the Rose-tree there blossomed a marvellous rose, petal following petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, at first, as the mist that hangs over the river - pale as the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the Tree.
她初时为这一对小儿女心中萌生的爱而唱歌。在那玫瑰树最高处的枝条上，绽放出一朵奇异的玫瑰，伴着歌一首接着一首响起，玫瑰一瓣接着一瓣盛开。起初，花瓣是灰白色的，灰白得像笼在河面上的雾，像清晨的足，像黎明的银翼。那朵灰白色的玫瑰，如同一朵玫瑰的花影映在银镜中，如同一朵玫瑰的花影映在水池中，绽放在那最高处的枝条上。
But the Tree cried to theNightingale to press closer against the thorn. 'Press closer, littleNightingale,' cried the Tree, 'or the Day will come before the rose isfinished.'
可是玫瑰树呼喊着让夜莺抵着刺靠得更紧些。“靠得更紧些吧，小夜莺，”玫瑰树呼喊道，“不然，这朵玫瑰还没完成，白天就来了。”
So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a maid.
夜莺便抵着刺靠得更紧了，她的歌声也愈发嘹亮，她为这一对成年男女的灵魂中燃起的热情而唱歌。
And a delicate flush ofpink came into the leaves of the rose, like the flush in the face of thebridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the thorn had not yetreached her heart, so the rose's heart remained white, for only a Nightingale'sheart's-blood can crimson the heart of a rose.
那朵玫瑰的花瓣上渐渐晕开了一抹微微的粉红，就像新郎亲吻他的新娘时脸上腾起的那抹红晕。可那刺还没扎进她的心脏，所以那朵玫瑰的心依然是白色的，因为唯有夜莺的心血才能浸红一朵玫瑰的心。
And the Tree cried to theNightingale to press closer against the thorn. 'Press closer, littleNightingale,' cried the Tree, 'or the Day will come before the rose isfinished.'
玫瑰树呼喊着让夜莺抵着刺靠得更紧些。“靠得更紧些吧，小夜莺，”玫瑰树呼喊道，“不然，这朵玫瑰还没完成，白天就来了。”
So the Nightingale pressedcloser against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang ofpain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grewher song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love thatdies not in the tomb.
夜莺便抵着刺靠得更紧了，刺扎进了她的心脏，一阵猛烈的刺痛袭遍她的身体。刺痛，愈发剧烈的刺痛，她的歌声也愈发激昂，她为这由死亡成就的爱而唱歌，为这葬于坟茔之中仍旧不朽的爱而唱歌。
And the marvellous rosebecame crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle ofpetals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.
那朵奇异的玫瑰变成了绯红色，就像东方天空的朝霞。围成一圈的花瓣是绯红色的，花心也是绯红色的，如缀着一颗红宝石。
But the Nightingale's voicegrew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a film came over hereyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her inher throat.
可是夜莺的声音愈发微弱了，她那对小小的翅膀开始扑腾，她的双眼蒙上了一层薄翳。她的歌声越来越虚弱，越来越虚弱，她感觉到有什么东西扼住了她的喉咙。
Then she gave one lastburst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingeredon in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy,and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purplecavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. Itfloated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message to thesea.
于是她竭力唱出了最后的歌声。那洁白的月亮听到了，于是忘了黎明已经到来，在天空中顾自徘徊。那绯红的玫瑰听到了，于是颤抖起来，浑身洋溢着深深的喜悦，在清晨的凉气中绽放了她的花瓣。歌声回荡，传到了她在山丘上的紫色巢穴中，唤醒了睡梦中的牧羊人，又飘过了河畔的芦苇丛，芦苇将这歌声里的话带给了大海。
'Look, look!' cried the Tree, 'the rose is finished now;' but the Nightingale made no answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.
“瞧啊，瞧啊！”玫瑰树呼喊着，“现在这朵玫瑰完成了。”可是夜莺没有回答，因为她死了，躺在长的高高的草丛里，在她的心上仍扎着那根刺。
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