I
'Tis done— but yesterday a King!
And armed with Kings to strive—
And now thou art a nameless thing:
So abject—yet alive!
Is this the man of thousand thrones
Who strewed our earth with hostile bones,
And can he thus survive?
Since he, miscalled the Morning Star,
Nor man nor fiend hath fallen so far.
完了，但昨天還是一個國君！
並且有多少君王協助你爭戰
而現在，你成了不屑一提的人，
你還活著，卻又如此卑賤！
這可就是那高踞萬邦的王，
曾把敵人的骸骨鋪滿大地上？
他居然這樣苟延殘喘？
因為他，曾被錯誤地叫作“晨星”
呵，沒有人、也沒有魔鬼跌得這樣深。
II
Ill-minded man! why scourge thy kind
Who bowed so low the knee?
By gazing on thyself grown blind,
Thou taught’st the rest to see.
With might unquestioned,— power to save,—
Thine only gift hath been the grave
To those that worshipped thee;
Nor till thy fall could mortals guess
Ambition’s less than littleness!
你這個毒心漢！為什麼要蹂躪
那俯首屈膝的你的同種？
由於只看自己，逐漸變為盲目，
你使其他的人睜開了眼睛。
你威武有力，你可以挽救人民，
但是你，對於崇奉你的人們，
你唯一的饋贈只是墳墓，
只有等你覆沒了，人們才看出
原來勃勃的野心比渺小還不如！
III
Thanks for that lesson— it will teach
To after-warriors more
Than high Philosophy can preach,
And vainly preached before.
That spell upon the minds of men
Breaks never to unite again,
That led them to adore
Those Pagod things of sabre-sway,
With fronts of brass, and feet of clay.
多謝這一課——深奧的哲理
白白給人們不斷的教訓，
對於後世的將軍，這個事實
比哲理的告誡更發人深省。
那符咒一旦在人的頭腦中
破碎了，就不會恢復完整，
它不會再使人去崇拜
一座軍刀統治的玲瓏寶塔：
外貌是青銅，腳基是泥沙。
IV
The triumph, and the vanity,
The rapture of the strife—
The earthquake-voice of Victory,
To thee the breath of life;
The sword, the sceptre, and that sway
Which man seemed made but to obey,
Wherewith renown was rife—
All quelled!— Dark Spirit! what must be
The madness of thy memory!
個人的勝算，虛名的傳揚，
鬥爭中的興奮和狂喜——
震撼大地的勝利的喧嚷，
形成了你的生命的呼吸；
那刀劍，那玉笏，和那統治：
彷彿人生來只該俯仰權勢，
一切建立了你的聲譽——
一切都完了！陰暗的魔王！你的回憶該充滿怎樣的瘋狂！
V
The Desolator desolate!
The Victor overthrown!
The Arbiter of others’ fate
A Suppliant for his own!
Is it some yet imperial hope
That with such change can calmly cope？
Or dread of death alone?
To die a Prince—or live a slave—
Thy choice is most ignobly brave!
那掃蕩一切的，自落得悲淒！
所向披靡的終於被擊倒！
那一向判決別人命運的
現在為了自己的命運討饒！
可是因為東山再起的希望，
或者只因為他害怕死亡，
便使他如此逆來順受了？
死為人君呢——還是生為奴隸——
你大膽的抉擇實在不夠榮譽。
VI
He who are old would rend the oak,
Dreamed not of rebound;
Chained by the trunk he vainly broke—
Alone—how looked he round?
Thou, in the sternness of thy strength,
An equal deed hast done at length,
And darker fate hast found:
He fell, the forest prowler’s prey;
But thou must eat thy heart away!
古時有人劈開橡樹，
作夢也想不到它復合；
被樹榦夾住難以掙脫—何其孤單—四顧只自己一個？
你，以你的威嚴和能力，也建立同樣的工作，不幸的命運臨到：
成為林中豺狼的獵物；你將要椎心悔恨難過！
VII
The Roman, when his burning heart
Was slaked with blood of Rome,
Threw down the dagger—dared depart,
In savage grandeur, home.—
He dared depart in utter scorn
Of men that such a yoke had borne,
Yet left him such a doom!
His only glory was that hour
Of self-upheld abandoned power.
那羅馬人，當他的內心激忿
曾經使血濺羅馬，
丟下短劍—敢於離開，
以殘暴的英偉，退隱回家—
他不畏極大的譏諷
那些人服在他那樣的重軛下，
留給他如何的咒罵！
他唯一的榮耀完全在於自制放下權威的一剎那。
VIII
The Spaniard, when the lust of sway
Has lost its quickening spell,
Cast crowns for rosaries away,
An empire for a cell,
A strict accountant of his beard,
A subtle disputant on creeds,
His dotage trifled well:
Yet better had he neither known
A bigot’s shrine, nor despot’s throne.
那西班牙人，當支配慾
失去使人興奮的魅力，
丟棄冠冕換取玫瑰經，
從帝國改為修道的靜室，
嚴謹的數着他的念珠，
精密的辯證信條析理，
他的晚年安然度過：
沒有誰比他更經歷過獨裁的寶座，或虔信者的廟祠。
IX
But thou— from thy reluctant hand
The thunderbolt is wrung—
Too late thou leav’st the high command
To which thy weakness clung;
All Evil Spirit as thou art,
It is enough to grieve the heart
To see thine own unstrung;
To think that God’s fair world hath been
The footstool of a thing so mean
但是你呵——那震懾人的雷電
已從你不情願的手里奪走——
你辭卻了統帥，卻未免太晚，
你執迷不悟使你不肯放手。
既然你是一個惡煞凶神，
又怎能不令我們傷心。
看到你的心是這麼發抖，
當我們想到上帝美好的世界
曾被如此卑微的東西所蹂躪。
X
And Earth hath spilt her blood for him,
Who thus can hoard his own!
And Monarchs bowed the trembling limb,
And thanked him for a throne!
Fair Freedom! we may hold thee dear,
When thus thy mightiest foes their fear
In humblest guise have shown.
Oh! ne’er may tyrant leave behind
A brighter name to lure mankind!
而大地曾為他血流成河，
只為他得以保住自己的！
帝王為了感謝他給的王座，
也曾抖索地向他屈膝！
自由呵！我們該多麼珍愛你，
當你使你最強大的仇敵
表現如此卑賤的畏懼。
有哪一個暴君能留給後世
一個更光輝而誘人的名字！
XI
Thine evil deeds are writ in gore,
Nor written thus in vain—
Thy triumphs tell of fame no more,
Or deepen every stain:
If thou hadst died as Honour dies,
Some new Napoleon might rise,
To shame the world again—
But who would soar the solar height,
To set in such a starless night?
你邪惡的事業是用血寫的，
這樣寫出來並不枉然——
你的勝利再也談不上榮譽，
它只深描出每種污點；
如果把你當光榮一樣痛惜，
那麼，另一個拿破崙就會躍起
再來凌辱這個世間——
然而，有誰肯飛凌太陽的高度，
卻鋪下這樣沒有星光的夜幕？
XII
Weigh’d in the balance, hero dust
Is vile as vulgar clay;
Thy scales, Mortality! are just
To all that pass away:
But yet methought the living great
Some higher sparks should animate
To dazzle and dismay:
Nor deem’d Contempt could thus make mirth
Of these, the Conquerors of the earth.
放在天平上，英雄的屍身
和凡人的一樣卑賤、渺小；
呵，死亡！對於死去的人
你的尺度同樣的公道。
然而我以為：活著的偉人
總該能點燃高尚的感情，
令人仰望而驚歎其崇高；
卻沒有料到，“輕蔑”竟能
對世界的征服者如此戲弄。
XIII
And she, proud Austria’s mournful flower,
Thy still imperial bride;
How bears her breast the torturing hour?
Still clings she to thy side?
Must she too bend, must she too share
Thy late repentance, long despair,
Thou throneless Homicide?
If still she loves thee, hoard that gem,—
’Tis worth thy vanished diadem!
她，仍然是你的皇后，
驕傲的奧地利之花可哀可憐；
她胸懷怎忍受那考驗的時刻？
她仍然緊貼在你的身邊？
她豈也要屈從，也要分擔
長久失望，你的悔改太晚，
你失去寶座的殺人犯？
若她依然愛你，保守那珍寶，—
那值得你消失的皇冠！
XIV
Then haste thee to thy sullen Isle,
And gaze upon the sea;
That element may meet thy smile—
It ne’er was ruled by thee!
Or trace with thine all idle hand
In loitering mood upon the sand
That Earth is now as free!
That Corinth’s pedagogue hath now
Transferred his by-word to thy brow.
趕快去你陰沉的海島，
注視那海水悠悠；
大自然會向你微笑—
從來不曾被你羈留！
或用你全然空閒的手
逍遙的讓沙粒微流
現在這大地也自由！
如今那哥林多的教師
把他的醜名轉到你的眉頭。
xv
Thou Timour! in his captive’s cage
What thought will there be thine,
While brooding in thy prisoned rage?
But one—“The world was mine!”
Unless, like he of Babylon,
All sense with thy sceptre gone,
Life will not long confine
That spirit poured so widely forth—
So long obeyed—so little worth!
帖木兒！在他俘虜的籠裏
你可有甚麼心思，
在籌畫着你監禁的忿激？
只一個—“這世界原是我的！”
除非，像巴比倫王，
所有理性和權杖一併消逝，
生命將不再受禁制
遂心所欲那麼寬廣無際—
長久順從—何等微小的價值！
XVI
Or, like the thief of fire from heaven,
Wilt thou withstand the shock?
And share with him, the unforgiven,
His vulture and his rock!
Foredoomed by God—by man accurst,
And that last act, though not thy worst,
The very Fiend’s arch mock;
He in his fall preserved his pride,
And, if a mortal, had as proudly died!
或像天上盜火的賊，
那震驚你可承受得起？
你可與他同擔永不得赦免，
他的巨石和他的鷹鷙！
受神預定的懲罰—被人咒詛，
那最後的行動，雖不是你最壞的，
卻是魔鬼最大的譏刺；
他墮落卻得把自尊保持，
如果是必死的人，也該傲然崩逝！
XVII
There was a day—there was an hour,
While earth was Gaul’s—Gaul thine—
When that immeasurable power
Unsated to resign
Had been an act of purer fame
Than gathers round Marengo’s name
And gilded thy decline,
Through the long twilight of all time,
Despite some passing clouds of crime.
有過一個日子——有那麼一刻，
大地是高盧的，而高盧屬於你，
如果那時候，不等享受太多，
你就放下這無限的權力，
那一舉給你帶來的美名
會勝過馬倫哥傳揚的英名。
而在一次悠久的晚霞裡，
它會把你的沒落鍍上金色，
你的罪愆也只是浮雲掠過。
XVIII
But thou forsooth must be a King
And don the purple vest,
As that foolish robe could wring
Remembrance from thy breast.
Where is that faded garment? where
The gewgaws thou wert fond to wear,
The star, the string, the crest?
Vain froward child of Empire! say,
Are all thy playthings snatched away?
但是你一定要粉墨登場，
你必須穿上紫紅的外衣，
彷彿那件愚蠢的皇裳
遮上胸口就能把往事忘記。
呵，那褪色的衣服哪去了？
還有金星，腰帶，盔上的羽毛，
那你所喜歡佩帶的玩具？
呵，喜愛帝國的虛榮的頑童！
你的玩具是否都無影無踪？
XIX
Where may the wearied eye repose
When gazing on the Great;
Where neither guilty glory glows,
Nor despicable state?
Yes—One—the first—the last—the best—
The Cincinnatus of the West,
Whom Envy dared not hate,
Bequeathed the name of Washington,
To make man blush there was but one!
疲勞的眼將在哪裏停息
當巡視着英雄群；
哪裏沒有罪咎的光榮，
也沒有污跡可尋？
是的—一位—最先的—最後的—最好的—
西方的辛森那徒，
只羨妒不敢恨他，
名垂宇宙的華盛頓，
使丈夫赧顏的唯此一人！
作者是Gordon Byron(拜倫)，和當時歐陸很多人一樣(如：貝多芬)，對拿破崙可說是又愛又恨。兩位都是我十分欣賞的人物。
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