What say the Bells of San Blas
圣布拉斯的钟声鸣响，
To the ships that southward pass
向那些来自马萨特兰港，
From the harbor of Mazatlan?
南下的航船诉说些什么？
To them it is nothing more
他们，不论船长或船员，
Than the sound of surf on the shore,—
别的声音全都听不见，
Nothing more to master or man.
只听见腾空拍岸的洪波。
But to me, a dreamer of dreams,
而我，我这多梦的梦中人，
To whom what is and what seems
“是什么”、“像什么”也不会区分，
Are often one and the same,—
常常把两者混融糅合，——
The Bells of San Blas to me
从圣布拉斯的钟声里，我听到
Have a strange, wild melody,
一种古怪而凄苦的音调，
And are something more than a name.
难以用一个名称来概括。
For bells are the voice of the church;
钟声乃是教堂的声音，
They have tones that touch and search
这样的乐曲触动和探寻
The hearts of young and old;
老老少少众人的心房；
One sound to all, yet each
同样的钟声，而听众各异，
Lends a meaning to their speech,
各自阐释这声音的含义，
And the meaning is manifold.
使它的含义纷繁多样。
They are a voice of the Past,
这钟声原是往昔的音响，
Of an age that is fading fast,
属于那高贵威严的力量，
Of a power austere and grand;
属于那倏忽衰谢的时代——
When the flag of Spain unfurled
那时，在西方世界上空，
Its folds o'er this western world,
西班牙旌旗舒展飘动，
And the Priest was lord of the land.
神父乃是大地的主宰。
The chapel that once looked down
多年前在这小小海港
On the little seaport town
凭高俯眺的一座教堂，
Has crumbled into the dust;
崩塌了，变成破瓦寒灰；
And on oaken beams below
残存的几根橡木横梁，
The bells swing to and fro,
吊着这些钟，来回晃荡，
And are green with mould and rust.
锈痕斑驳，长满了绿霉。
"Is, then, the old faith dead,"
“莫不是老信条已经废掉，”
They say, "and in its stead
它们说，“莫不是新兴的信条
Is some new faith proclaimed,
已经定出，已经颁布，
That we are forced to remain
才弄得我们茹苦含辛，
Naked to sun and rain,
赤条条任凭日晒雨淋，
Unsheltered and ashamed?
无遮无盖，蒙羞受辱？
"Once in our tower aloof
“当年，在孤悬高耸的钟楼，
We rang over wall and roof
我们把警世钟声鸣奏，
Our warnings and our complaints;
俯临全城的墙垣屋顶；
And round about us there
那时，环绕在我们四旁，
The white doves filled the air,
是一群白鸽凌空飞翔，
Like the white souls of the saints.
宛如圣者洁白的魂灵。
"The saints! Ah, have they grown
“圣者！他们莫不是已经
Forgetful of their own?
把自己的权益忘了个干净？
Are they asleep, or dead,
莫不是已经睡熟或死去，
That open to the sky
才听任他们传道所坍塌，
Their ruined Missions lie,
裸露在光天化日之下，
No longer tenanted?
无人来访，无人来住？
"Oh, bring us back once more
“哦！请再次给我们送来
The vanished days of yore,
那已逝去的往昔年代——
When the world with faith was filled;
那时节，信仰充盈于宇宙；
Bring back the fervid zeal,
送来那种炽烈的热情，
The hearts of fire and steel,
那些如钢似火的心灵，
The hands that believe and build.
那些信神、创业的双手。
"Then from our tower again
“到那时，从那高高的楼顶，
We will send over land and main
我们将再度发布出号令，
Our voices of command,
这声音传遍陆地和大海；
Like exiled kings who return
像蒙尘君主重返丹墀，
To their thrones, and the people learn
教各处臣民咸得闻知：
That the Priest is lord of the land!"
神父乃是大地的主宰！”
O Bells of San Blas, in vain
圣布拉斯的钟声！你白白
Ye call back the Past again!
想要召回往昔的年代！
The Past is deaf to your prayer!
往昔听不见你的祷告；
Out of the shadows of night
从夜的沉沉暗影里出来，
The world rolls into light;
世界滚入了一片光彩，
It is daybreak everywhere.
人间处处是曙光普照。