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勞作是禱告

凌風 譯

 

不要躊躇夢想前途在望,
不要為擾人的思慮悲泣憂傷;
聽啊,宇宙萬有深沉的樂音合唱,
  持續不停的,上升直達天堂!
海洋的波浪從來不停止激揚,
微小的種子從來不停止生長,
更多更多的玫瑰歡心綻放,
  直到從它的幹莖不再供取營養。

“勞作是敬拜!”知更鳥在歌唱;
“勞作是敬拜!”野蜂在飛翔;
聽!雄辯的低語跳躍作響,
  向你的靈魂說話從自然偉大的心房。
從流動的烏雲滋育的甘霖沛降,
從粗糙的土塊芬芳的花朵開放,
從微小的昆蟲豐美的珊瑚寶藏,
  只有人,計畫中的責任不肯承當。

勞作是生命!停滯的死水會臭腐,
閒懶常是帶來失望和痛苦;
保持鐘表的彈簧緊張否則黑銹侵蛀,
  花兒垂萎死亡是在窒悶的正午。
勞作是光榮!—飛行的雲彩光耀;
只有波動的翅膀能夠變化並閃爍;
懶惰的心惟有黑暗的前途來恐嚇,
  彈奏那甜美的琴鍵將使它合調。

勞作是安息—招呼我們從憂苦出離;
從瑣細的煩惱中迎接我們進入安息;
使我們勝過犯罪的引誘得以安逸;
  安然脫離世界的炫惑不陷於悲慘失迷。
勞作,—清穩的睡眠將等在你的枕頭;
勞作,—你將能乘駕憂慮翻騰的逆流;
不要在垂柳的蔭下倒臥憂愁,
  以剛勇的心和堅定意志勞作不休。

勞作是健康!看,那農夫在收割,
他的血管中流動着生命跳躍的脈搏!
他堅毅自豪的揮動着強壯的臂膊,
  在迅快的鐮刀引導下如陽光赫赫。
勞作是財富,—珍珠在海中生長;
蠶繭紡出了王后華美的衣裳;
從微小的橡實中樹林呼嘯茁壯,
  在大理石塊中有宮殿和雕像蘊藏。

不要消沉!雖羞恥,罪,和痛苦圍繞你!
勇敢的摔脫那冰冷的鎖鏈捆綁你!
仰望那潔淨的天堂迎着你!
  不要滿足於在你黑暗中安息,—肉體!
勞力作些善事,雖然是那樣緩慢!
珍愛一些花朵,雖然是那樣卑賤!
勞作!—所有的勞作都是尊貴和神聖;
  把偉大的事工當作禱告獻給你的神。

法蘭絲.歐思葛
(Frances Sargent Osgood, nee Locke, 1811-1850)
美國詩人
夫Samuel Stillman Osgood,畫家

 

To Labor Is To Pray

Pause not to dream of the future before us;
Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us;
Hark how Creation's deep, musical chorus,
   Unintermitting, goes up into heaven!
Never the ocean wave falters in flowing;
Never the little seed stops in its growing;
More and more richly the rose heart keeps glowing,
   Till from its nourishing stem it is riven.

"Labor is worship!" the robin is singing;
"Labor is worship!" the wild bee is ringing;
Listen! that eloquent whisper, upspringing,
   Speaks to thy soul from out nature's great heart.
From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower;
From the rough sod blows the soft-breathing flower;
From the small insect, the rich coral bower;
   Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part.

Labor is life! 'tis the still water faileth;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth;
Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth;
   Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon.
Labor is glory! —the flying cloud lightens;
Only the waving wing changes and brightens,
Idle hearts only the dark future frightens,
   Play the sweet keys, wouldst thou keep them in tune!

Labor is rest—from the sorrows that greet us;
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us;
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us;
   Rest from world-sirens that lure us to ill.
Work, —and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow;
Work, —thou shalt ride o'er Care's coming billow;
Lie not down 'neath Woe's weeping willow,
   Work with a stout heart and resolute will!

Labor is health! Lo, the husbandman reaping,
How through his veins goes the life-current leaping!
How his strong arm in its stalworth pride sweeping,
   True as a sunbeam the swift sickle guides.
Labor is wealth, —in the sea the pearl groweth;
Rich the queen's robe from the cocoon floweth;
From the fine acorn the strong forest bloweth;
   Temple and statue the marble block hides.

Droop not! though shame, sin, and anguish are round thee!
Bravely fling off the cold chain that hath bound thee!
Look to the pure heaven smiling beyond thee!
   Rest not content in thy darkness, —a clod!
Work for some good, be it ever so slowly!
Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly!
Labor! —all labor is noble and holy;
   Let thy great deed be thy prayer to thy God.
   


Frances Sargent Osgood, nee Locke (1811-1850)
American poet

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2019.11

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