ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD by Thomas Gray
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness, and to me.
写于乡村墓园的哀歌
托马斯. 格雷宵禁的钟声鸣起临终一天的丧钟，低哞的牲群蜿蜒在草地，归家的农夫沉重地拖着疲惫的脚步，只把这个世界留给黑夜，和我。
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds:
隐约可见的景物慢慢从视野中淡去，所有的空气都包含着一种凝重的静寂，除了小甲虫在盘旋轻舞，还有那催眠的铃声安静着远处的羊群。
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
除了猫头鹰在那边从绿藤覆盖的塔上对月怨诉某人，徘徊于她的密闺周围，打扰了她古老的属地。
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.那些粗糙的老榆树下，紫杉荫里，草皮一堆堆升起，在每个狭窄的空间里永远躺卧着，熟睡中的村庄里朴实的先辈。
The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
早晨清新的微风，茅屋上燕子的歌声，雄鸡高亢的号角，或是那回响的喇叭，不再能把他们唤醒。
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share,
熊熊的火炉不再为他们燃烧，繁忙的主妇晚上也不用把他们照料：孩童们不会跑过去欢迎祖父的归来，或爬上他的膝盖争相把慈爱的吻来分享。
Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!多少次他们的镰刀迎来收获，他们的犁又多少次把顽固的土地翻耕；怎样快乐地他们赶着牲口到地里！柴禾在他们有力的砍伐下又是怎样弯下了腰！
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile The short and simple annals of the Poor.
雄心不要去嘲笑他们的劳苦，他们平凡的快乐，和不起眼的命运；富贵也不要带着轻蔑的笑去倾听贫穷那短暂又简单的历史。 （这里，雄心、富贵、贫穷都是拟人）
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour:- The paths of glory lead but to the grave.壮观的仪式，权势的夸耀，所有的美，所有的财富，都毫无例外地等待着一个必然的时刻——荣耀的大道只是通向坟墓。
Nor you, ye Proud, impute to these the fault If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.你，骄傲，也不能把错都归于他们如果他们的墓碑没有任何美丽的装饰，而教堂常常的走廊和雕饰优美的穹顶却充盈着赞美的歌声。 （穷人好富人的葬礼对比）
Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath? Can Honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death?
绘画精美的瓮和逼真的雕像能否将飞逝的气息唤回家？赞扬的声音能否激起安静的尘土，或者恭维能否安抚死亡那迟钝而冷酷的耳？ （对于死者来说，一切赞美都没有。也没有人因为说了恭维的话而能够欺骗死亡）
Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:
也许在这片被忽视的地方安顿着一颗心曾一度满怀上天赐予的热情；一双手，本可能挥动帝国的王杖，或是唤起七弦琴的狂喜： （这些普通人有很多潜力没有挖掘出来，本可能成为政治家或音乐家。）
But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; Chill Penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.然而知识，未曾对他们的双眼开启她的装满时间的战利品的纸张；（时间积累了人类丰富的知识）贫穷压制了他们高贵的热情，凝住了灵魂中天才的流动。
Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.太多的宝石散发着最纯美平静的光芒孕育在黑暗难测的海底洞穴；太多的花朵天生就要独自绽放，耗尽清香在沙漠的气息。 （这首诗最著名的句子，平凡的人就正如这些宝石，这些花，他们的光芒是别人看不见的。）
Some village-Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.某位村里的汉普顿，用无畏的胸膛把他地里的暴君阻挡，某位不做声的无名弥尔顿也许安歇于此，某位克伦威尔，从没流过他的国人的血。 （他们有可能成为名人，有着克伦威尔的能力，却没有机会像他一样杀过那么多人。）
Th' applause of list'ning senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes,博得参议院的阵阵掌声，藐视痛苦和灾难的威胁，向感恩的土地散发爱心，让全国之人都记住他们的伟绩。 （想象当他们真的当上政治家会怎么样）
Their lot forbad: nor circumscribed alone Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined; Forbad to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind,
他们的命运阻止了：并非只是限制了他们美德才能的发展，他们的罪行也被限制；阻止了他们趟过杀戮的血通向王位，并把仁慈之门关上。
The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.内心多么挣扎和痛苦，在故意隐藏真理时，在努力不让羞愧引起脸上绯红时，在用缪斯的火焰点燃的香堆在奢侈和傲慢的龛位时。 （当了名人，要做很多自己有愧的事情。还要用文字去谄媚，换取奢侈的生活自己的骄傲。）
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenour of their way.
远离疯狂人群无谓的争斗，他们清醒的愿望从来没有偏离；沿着凉爽幽静的生命谷他们唱着自己无声的高音。
Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture deck'd, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh.
即使这些人，为了不受羞辱附近也立着简单的碑文，写着不合韵律的文字，装饰着粗糙的雕像，恳请路人献上一声叹息。
Their name, their years, spelt by th' unletter'd Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
他们的姓名，年月，由某位没念过书的缪斯写就，声望和赞歌处写上：很多经文她一一联缀，教给乡村的道德家如何面对死亡。
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Let the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?对于无声的遗忘这个愉快焦虑的生命总会变成猎物，离开快乐的白天的温暖国度，谁不会投下渴望留恋的目光？
On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires; E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
在亲人的胸口离别的灵魂轻依，真诚的眼泪闭合的双目唤起；即使从坟墓里自然也在高声呼喊，即使在我们的灰烬里也保留着他们往日的热情。
For thee, who, mindful of th' unhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,
你，一个关心着无名死者的人，在这些诗行里把他们无奇的故事讲述，如果机会，用孤独的沉思引领，某个相似的魂灵，也来问询你的命运，
Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, 'Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn;
或许，一位白发的村夫会说，“常常我们看见他在破晓之时匆匆的脚步扫去清晨的露珠，去迎接太阳在那片高高的草地； （从这儿开始，诗人假想自己死后如果也有人来问关于他的事情，别人会如何回答。）
'There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high. His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
“那边在弯着腰的毛榉树下古老的虬根错综盘旋。他郁郁的在中午把身躯展伸，面对潺潺的小溪陷入沉思。 （描述他生前每天的生活，情绪）
'Hand by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove; Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with car, or cross'd in hopeless love.
“那里，嘲讽地微笑着的树林边，嘀咕着他回家路上的奇思妙想；时而垂头，脸色苍白可怜，像个弃儿，又或者因car而疯狂，或因无望的爱情而烦恼。
'One morn I miss'd him on the custom'd hill, Along the heath, and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he;
“一天早晨，在平常的那座山上我没见他，在田野上，在他最喜欢的树旁也没有；又一个早上，小溪边还是没见他，草地上，树林旁都一样； （突然一天早晨，不再在往常的地方见到他）
'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne,- Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.'
“再一天早上伤心的队伍唱着挽歌慢慢穿过墓地我们看到他被抬着，——走近点去读一下（你反正会读）那首短诗刻在那边枯老荆棘下的石碑。 （以下是诗人想像着自己的墓志铭）EPITAPH THE EPITAPH
墓志铭
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth A Youth, to Fortune and to Fame unknown; Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
在这里他的头静放在大地的怀中一位青年，对于财富和声名来说都是无名小卒； （他既不富有，也不出名。财富，声名又是拟人。）公平的科学没有因他卑贱的出身而皱眉，忧郁也给他打上自己的烙迹。 （他喜欢科学，性格也比较忧郁。诗人是感伤派的代表人物）
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere; Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to Misery all he had, a tear, He gain'd from Heaven, 'twas all he wish'd, a friend.
他非常慷慨，灵魂真诚；上天大方地对他补偿：他送给苦难他所拥有的一切，一滴眼泪，他从上天得到，他说希冀的一切，一个朋友。
No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God.
不必费心去找寻他更多的美德，也不要从那可怕的住所拉出他的软弱，（那里美德和软弱都带着颤抖的希望安歇，）在他的父和神的胸膛。
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