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勞動歌

凌風 譯

 

啊,他們難得明白真正的滿足快樂,
那些人投向豪華豐滿的懷抱,吃肥美反而受損害。
啊,他們難得明白辛勞換來酣眠的喜樂福分,
那些人舒身在怠惰的苦刑台上,嘗受睡覺的摧壞。
沒有甚麼盼望,或勞作;無所嘆息,或得着;
沒有甚麼燃起心胸和頭腦,像閃電那樣的活潑;
沒有甚麼噓氣揚波,打破他那單調的生活;
在麻木,昏睡,厭倦,悲哀,死亡之外再沒有甚麼。

但人性之子有福了,在人中最快樂無比,
他們使錘或鑿或鉛筆,使舵或犁頭或筆,
從生命的早晨存着盼望勞作一天又一天,
贏得家庭和親愛的神聖 — 敬愛的兒女妻子。
揮動着辛勤的錘子,迅急敲擊利鑿響聲,
勞動者的心跳躍不曾振蕩過王者的心胸,—
他是真統治者和征服者,同類中的真王,
敢於直視強勁的世界,有剛勇搏鬥的臂膀。

   麥加錫(Denis Florence MacCarthy)愛爾蘭詩人。

Labour Song
  From The Bell-Founder

Ah! little they know of true happiness, they whom satiety fills,
Who, flung on the rich breast of luxury, eat of the rankness that
    kills.
Ah! little they know of the blessedness toil-purchased slumber
    enjoys
Who, stretched on the hard rack of indolence, taste of the sleep that
    destroys;
Nothing to hope for, or labour for; nothing to sigh for, or gain;
Nothing to light in its vividness, lightning-like, bosom and brain;
Nothing to break life's monotony, rippling it o'er with its breath:
Nothing but dullness and lethargy, weariness, sorrow, and death!

But blessed that child of humanity, happiest man among men,
Who, with hammer or chisel or pencil, with rudder or ploughshare
    or pen,
Laboureth ever and ever with hope through the morning of life,
Winning home and its darling divinities,— love-worshipped
    children and wife.
Round swings the hammer of industry, quickly the sharp chisel
    rings,
And the heart of the toiler has throbbings that stir not the bosom of
    kings,—
He the true ruler and conqueror, he the true king of his race,
Who nerveth his arm for life's combat, and looks the strong world
    in the face.

Denis Florence MacCarthy, 1817-1882
Irish poet

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2018.7

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