柯爾律治《忽必烈汗》重譯 傅正明譯 S. T. 柯爾律治（Samuel Taylor Coleridge） 忽必烈汗：或夢中的一個幻象。一段殘詩 （Kubla Khan: Or, a Vision in a Dream• A Fragment）[1] 刊行這段殘詩，實乃應一位當之無愧的偉大詩人(拜倫爵士)的請求。就作者本人的觀點而言，與其說它富於何種潛在的詩意，倒不如說它可以視為一份珍貴的心理學資料。 1797年夏，健康欠佳的作者，回到薩默塞特郡與德文郡的埃克摩邊界地帶波羅克與林東之間孤獨的農舍。他因身體不適服用了一點鎮痛劑，藥性發作之後，睡眼朦朧中讀到普卡斯 (Purchas)的《朝聖》( Pilgrimage )：“忽必烈汗詔令營造宮殿，修建御花園，十里沃野被高牆圍隔。”不知不覺沉沉入睡約三小時，當此外部感覺最少之時，他最明確地相信自己可以寫作－－至少能寫兩三百行詩，如果這真能稱為寫作的話。在這一過程中，所有的意象像事物一樣在他眼前浮上來，有一種與表現相應的類似的創造，沒有任何苦心經營的感覺或意識。醒來時，他尚有完整而清晰的回憶。他取出筆墨紙張，立即奮筆疾書，寫下這些詩行。此刻，他不幸被一個從波羅克來的辦事員叫出來，耽擱了一個多小時。回到書房後，他十分驚異而沮喪地發現，儘管他仍然模糊地記得幻景的大致內容，卻僅僅寫下八到十行凌亂的殘詩和意象，其餘的就像一石擊落溪流之後散亂消失的水面意象，再也無法復原了！ 迷人之境 皆被弄碎 美不勝收的魔幻世界 化為烏有，一千隻圓環展開， 一隻只遞相扭曲變形。略停片刻， 可憐啊青年！你簡直未敢抬起眼楮 －－ 溪流將很快恢復它的光滑，很快 幻景將重現！啊，他停下來， 很快，可愛的形式模糊的殘片 顫抖著回歸，聯結，現在 小池再度成為一面明鏡。 ( 摘自柯爾律治<圖畫，或，情人的決心>,第91-100行) 但是，從依舊殘留於他心中的回憶，作者已多次想為他自己完成在靈啟中得到原初意象。“明天我將給你唱首更甜美的歌”:[2] 明天還會來的。作為這個幻景的一個對比，我附錄了一個特色頗為不同的殘篇，以同樣的忠實來描繪這個痛苦的病態的夢。 忽必烈汗立上都， 詔令建造金碧輝煌安樂宮。 神河阿爾佛[3]，訇然穿岩洞， 奔流直下，深不可測， 匯入不見天日地下海洋中。 方圓十哩，一片沃野， 樓台亭閣，輔以城闋。 溪流穿花園，蜿蜒閃光澤， 溪邊植香木，鮮花開不謝； 四山拱衛壽比丘壑林間樹 環抱明媚大草地，一片青蔥色。
噫吁嚱！驀見天崩地開裂，急轉直下青山側， 上有濃蔭覆蓋之杉樹，下有幽深莫測之罅隙。 其險也如此，其神也難說－－ 但聞寒月下，神出鬼沒一女郎 只緣情人化魔怪，淚汪汪。 又聞罅隙一片喧囂翻波浪。 仿佛大地垂危間，氣喘喘。 一股地泉，洶湧噴射， 巨石碎沙，騰上雲天， 或如列缺霹靂之中冰雹之倒落， 或如農夫連枷之下稻穀之反彈。 龐然大岩石，飛舞何蹁躚！ 神河夾石出深淵，倒流上青山， 流過峽谷，流過森林， 迷迷茫茫，蜿蜒五哩長， 直入深不可測岩洞間， 一片喧囂沉入死寂大海洋。 喧囂間，忽必列汗遙聞祖先 吐真言，預言一場大惡戰。 雕梁畫棟之殿堂， 水中倒影泛波瀾； 悲喜交加之曲調 來自岩洞和地泉。 其乎怪哉！鬼斧神工為世所罕見， 陽光映照逍遙宮，閃爍冰窟雪窖間！ 憶昔朦朧生幻象， 飄然飛來一女郎， 自言本為異邦女，[4] 蝴蝶古琴[5] 抱身上， 為我一揮手，仙山 [6] 飄絕響。 婉轉歌喉，從此不再聞， 和諧音韻，而今在何方？ 若能摹寫銷魂之仙曲， 定能以樂音之悠遠高揚， 重建霧裡樓台，雲中仙邦， 陽光燦爛安樂宮，聳立冰窟雪窖上！ 如此海外奇談，凡能耳聞目睹者， 定然高聲呼喊：提防！提防！ 他那眼光閃亮，他那髮絲飄蕩！ 織一圓環，繞他三匝，只緣他以人間蜜露為食， 以天國乳泉為漿。 1798年 譯註 [1] 譯自柯爾律治的《克麗斯特貝爾》（Christabel, 1816)。 [2] 原文為希臘文，引自古希臘詩人特俄克里特 ( Theocritus ) 的《牧歌》( Idylls I. 145 )。 [3] 詩人想象中的一條河流。 [4] 原文為阿爾比西尼亞 ( 埃塞俄比亞舊稱 ) 姑娘。 [5] 或音譯為德西瑪琴， 一種以小錘敲擊、類似於中國揚琴的樂器。 [6] 原文為阿拉伯山，詩人想象中的一座仙山。 柯爾律治原文： Samuel Taylor Coleridge Kubla Khan: Or, a Vision in a Dream. A Fragment The following fragment is here published at the request of a poet of pt and deserved celebrity, and, as far as the author's own opinions are concerned, rather as a psychological curiosity, than on the grounds of any supposed poetic merits. In the summer of the year 1797, the author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farmhouse between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment that he was reading the following sentence, or words of the same substance, in Purchas's Pilgrimage: "Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And thus ten miles of fertile ground were inclosed with a wall." The author continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time he has the most vivid confidence that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort. On awaking he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was unforunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone has been cast, but, alas! without the after restoration of the latter! Then all the charm
Is broken — all that phantom world so fair
Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread,
And each misshape[s] the other. Stay awhile,
Poor youth! who scarcely dar'st lift up thine eyes —
The stream will soon renew its smoothness, soon
The visions will return! And lo, he stays,
And soon the fragments dim of lovely forms
Come trembling back, unite, and now once more
The pool becomes a mirror. [From Coleridge's The Picture; or, the lover's Resolution, lines 91-100] Yet from the still surviving recollections in his mind, the author has frequently purposed to finish for himself what had been originally, as were, given to him. [I shall sing a sweeter song tomorrow]: but the tomorrow is yet to come. As a contrast to this vision, I have annexed a fragment of a very different character, describing with equal fidelity the dream of pain and disease. In Xanadu did KubIa Khan
A stately pleasure dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chafly grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And `mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And `mid this tumult KubIa heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight `twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honeydew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise. 1798 |
