Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
-- W. H. Auden
《葬礼蓝调》 （娜斯 译）
停止所有的时钟，切断电话
给狗一块浓汁的骨头，让他别叫
黯哑了钢琴，随着低沉的鼓
抬出灵怄，让哀悼者前来。
让直升机在头顶悲旋
在天空狂草着信息他已逝去，
把黑纱系在信鸽的白颈，
让交通员戴上黑色的手套。
他曾经是我的东，我的西，我的南，我的北，
我的工作天，我的休息日，
我的正午，我的夜半，我的话语，我的歌吟，
我以为爱可以不朽：我错了。
不再需要星星，把每一颗都摘掉，
把月亮包起，拆除太阳，
倾泻大海，扫除森林；
因为什么也不会，再有意味。
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
-- W. H. Auden
《葬礼蓝调》 （娜斯 译）
停止所有的时钟，切断电话
给狗一块浓汁的骨头，让他别叫
黯哑了钢琴，随着低沉的鼓
抬出灵怄，让哀悼者前来。
让直升机在头顶悲旋
在天空狂草着信息他已逝去，
把黑纱系在信鸽的白颈，
让交通员戴上黑色的手套。
他曾经是我的东，我的西，我的南，我的北，
我的工作天，我的休息日，
我的正午，我的夜半，我的话语，我的歌吟，
我以为爱可以不朽：我错了。
不再需要星星，把每一颗都摘掉，
把月亮包起，拆除太阳，
倾泻大海，扫除森林；
因为什么也不会，再有意味。
