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