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spake_spake是什么意思

阿波罗,我的,唱到spake_spake是什么意思

发布时间：2020-12-06加入收藏来源：互联网点击：

很多朋友想了解关于spake的一些资料信息，下面是小编整理的与spake相关的内容分享给大家，一起来看看吧。

《牧歌（插图珍藏版）》藏书票

维吉尔 （Publius Vergilius Maro，公元前70年—公元前19年），古罗马诗人，欧洲文化的“源头活水”。他开创了一种新型的史诗，在他手里，史诗脱离了在宫廷或民间集会上说唱的口头文学传统和集体。他给诗歌注入了新内容，赋予了新风格，产生了深远的影响。他影响了但丁、莎士比亚、弥尔顿和济慈等后世作家。

牧歌（节选）

其六

ECLOGUE Ⅵ

起初我的缪斯钟爱牧歌式的小巧歌谣；

她隐居山林，并且从未因此感到羞耻。

我曾歌颂枕戈披甲的王侯，但阿波罗

拉住我的耳朵，警告我说：“提提鲁斯，

牧人该把羊儿养胖，把诗歌写得瘦小。”

My muse first stooped to trifle, like the Greek’s

In numbers; and, unblushing, dwelt in woods.

I sang embattled kings: but Cynthius plucked

My ear, and warned me: “Tityrus, fat should be

A shepherd’s wethers, but his lays thin-drawn.”

所以瓦鲁斯啊，既然想讴歌你的成就，

讲述可怕战争的人到处都有，就让我

用纤纤芦管试奏我的乡野小调。尽管

我也是奉命而作，但若真的有人愿意

阅读我的诗篇，真的有人会为之倾倒，

这片片香桃和无边林野都将为你欢唱！

So—for enough and more will strive to tell,

Varus, thy deeds, and pile up grisly wars—

On pipe of straw will I my wood-notes sing:

I sing not all unbid. Yet oh! should one

Smit by great love, should one read this my lay—

没有诗歌能够赢得阿波罗的至高赞赏，

除非诗的首页写着瓦鲁斯，你的名号。

歌唱吧，仙女！——年轻的克罗米斯

和穆纳西勒发现酣睡洞中的西伦努斯：

他宿醉未醒，血脉偾张，一如往常；

头顶的花环滑落身边，笨重的酒杯

以被手指磨光的杯耳为钩挂在一旁。

因这老头常把他俩戏弄，答应唱歌，

却总不开口，他俩便悄悄向他靠近，

以花冠为镣铐，将他牢牢捆在地上。

Then with thee, Varus, shall our myrtle-groves,

And all these copses, ring. Right dearly loves

Phoebus the page that opens with thy name.

On, sisters!

—Chromis and Mnasylus saw

(Two lads) Silenus in a cave asleep:

As usual, swoln with yesterday’s debauch.

Just where it fell his garland lay hard by;

And on worn handle hung his ponderous can.

They—for the old man oft had cheated each

Of promised songs—draw near, and make his wreaths

连埃格勒，那顶顶可爱的水中女仙

也前来助阵，老头刚一睁眼，便用

桑葚的汁液把那一双鬓眉涂得血红。

遭此暗算，老头哈哈大笑，大喊道：

“这五花大绑可还得了！来来，孩子，

快给我松绑，你们的本事我已领教！

要我唱歌，就竖起耳朵，就唱你们

想听的歌；还有她，我也另有奖赏。”

说着他便开口吟唱，只见山神与野兽

都应声起舞，笔挺的橡树也频频点头。

连阿波罗也不曾让帕纳塞斯的山石

欢欣至此，连俄耳甫斯的天籁之声

Fetters to bind him. AEgle makes a third

(AEgle, the loveliest of the Naiad maids)

To back their fears: and, as his eyes unclose,

Paints brow and temples red with mulberry.

He, laughing at the trick, cries, “Wherefore weave

These fetters? Lads, unbind me: ’tis enough

But to have seemed to have me in your power.

Ye ask a song; then listen. You I’ll pay

With song: for her I’ve other meed in store.”

And forthwith he begins. Then might you see

Move to the music Faun and forest-beast,

And tall oaks how their heads. Not so delights

也不曾让罗多佩与伊斯马鲁感动如斯。

他歌唱土壤、空气、海水与流火之种

在无边无际的茫茫虚空之中完成汇聚，

令鸿蒙初辟，天地始分，年轻的世界

不断生长延伸，变成一个饱满的球体；

接着，大地开始变得坚硬，如牢墙般

囚海神于大海，令世间万物渐次成形，

直到灿烂的日光照亮满怀敬畏的大地，

漫天的祥云从九霄之上降下甘霖——

森林开始萌芽，大地披上绿装，随处

Parnassus in Apollo: not so charmed

At Orpheus Rhodope and Ismarus.

For this he sang: How, drawn from that vast void,

Gathered the germs of earth and air and sea

And liquid flame. How the Beginning sprang

Thence, and the young world waxed into a ball.

Then Earth, grown harder, walled the sea-god off

In seas, and slowly took substantial form:

Till on an awed world dawned the wondrous sun,

And straight from heaven, by clouds unbroken, fell

The showers: as woods first bourgeoned, here and there

可见三两野兽游走在没有名字的山冈。

接着他唱到皮拉抛石、萨图恩的统治、

高加索鸷鸟和盗取天火的普罗米修斯，

也唱到水手们在许拉斯失踪的泉水边

呼唤他们的同伴：“许拉斯，许拉斯！”

直到整片海岸都阵阵回响着他的名字。

他安慰爱上一头漂亮公牛的帕西法厄，

说要是世上没有这些长着犄角的牲口，

她本该幸福、快乐。噢！不幸的姑娘，

你真是鬼迷心窍！普洛埃图的女儿们

虽然哞哞学牛，漫步田间，却也不曾

屈膝俯身，向那卑贱的畜生觅爱寻欢，

A wild beast wandering over hills unknown.

Of Pyrrha casting stones, and Saturn’s reign,

The stolen fire, the eagles of the rock,

He sings: and then, beside what spring last seen,

The sailors called for Hylas—till the shore

All rang with “Hylas,” “Hylas”:—and consoles

(Happy if horned herds never had been born)

With some fair bullock’s love Pasiphae.

Ah! hapless maid! What madness this of thine?

Once a king’s daughters made believe to low,

And ranged the leas: but neither stooped to ask

Those base beasts’ love: though each had often feared

尽管她们时常会伸手摸摸光嫩的前额，

生怕头上有犄角萌生，而且日夜忐忑，

唯恐颈间扣上犁轭。噢！不幸的姑娘，

你自流落山间，他却时而以花丛为垫，

侧卧雪白的身体，在那暗绿的橡树下

咀嚼淡翠的青草，时而又随牛群游走，

追求心仪的母牛：“仙女啊仙女——

狄克特的仙女们，请封闭林间的空地！

只有这样，我才有可能在偶然间发现

那头恣意漫游的白色公牛留下的踪迹！

或是被郁郁青草吸引，或是跟随牛群，

或是被离群的母牛带进我父亲的牛栏！”

To find the ploughman’s gear about her neck,

And felt on her smooth brow for budding horns.

Ah! hapless maid! Thou roam’st from hill to hill:

He under some dark oak—his snowy side

Cushioned on hyacinths—chews the pale-green grass,

Or woos some favourite from the herd. “Close, Nymphs,

Dictaean Nymphs, oh close the forest-glades!

If a bull’s random footprints by some chance

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