愛之花

王爾德在這首詩中，以一個詩人的心情描述他如何徘徊在詩與愛之間，最終還是選擇了愛情的過程。

Sweet,I blame you not,for mine the fault was,had I not been made of common clay.

I had climbed the higher heights unclimbed yet,seen the fuller air, the larger day.

From the wildness of my wasted passion I had struck a better,clearer song,

Lit some lighter light of freer freedom,battled with some Hydra-headed wrong.

Had my lips been smitten into music by the kisses that but made them bleed,

You had walked with Bice and the angels on that verdant and enameled mead.

I had trod the road which Dante treading saw the suns of seven circles shine,

Ay!Perchance had seen the heavens opening,as they opened to the Florentine.

And the mighty nations would have crowned me, who am crownless now and without name,

And some orient dawn had found me kneeling on the threshold of the House of Fame.

I had sat within that marble circle where the oldest bard is as the young,

And the pipe is ever dropping honey,and the lyres strings are ever strung.

Keats had lifted up his hymeneal curls from out the poppy-seeded wine,

With ambrosial mouth had kissed my forehead,clasped the hand of noble love in mine.

And at springtide,when the apple-blossoms brush the burnished bosom of the dove,

Two young lovers lying in an orchard would have read the story of our love.

Would have read the legend of my passion,known the bitter secret of my heart,

Kissed as we had kissed,but never parted as we two are fated now to part.

For the crimson flower of our life is eaten by the cankerworm of truth

And no hand can gather up the fallen withered petals of the ors of youth.

Yet I am not sorry that I loved you—ah! What else had I a boy to do —

For the hungry teeth of time devour, and the silent-footed years pursue.

Rudderless,we drift athwart a tempest,and when once the storm of youth is past,

Without lyre,without lute or chorus,Death the silent pilot comes at last.

And within the grave there is no pleasure,for the blind-worm battens on the root,

And Desire shudders into ashes,and the tree of Passion bears no fruit.

Ah!What else had I to do but love you,Gods own mother was less dear to me,

And less dear the Cytheran rising like an argent lily from the sea.

I have made my choice, had lived my poems,and,though youth is gone in wasted days.

I have found the lovers crown of myrtle better than the poets crown of bays.

愛人，我不怪你，因為是我的過錯，

若非我是俗體凡胎，

我早已攀登上那些未曾被登臨的更高的山，

觀覽過更完整的天空，更開闊的陽光。

我曾以我那枉然的狂野熱情奏出

一首更完美，更清晰的歌，

曾點燃比自由更自由的光亮，

也曾與那如九頭蛇怪般的邪惡戰斗。

如果我的唇被那些只會

使它們流血的親吻撞擊出了樂音，

你就會與貝阿特莉切1和天使們同行

在那青蔥翠綠的草地上。

我曾經走過但丁2行走的道路

在此他看見七重光環的太陽燦爛，

是啊！或許曾看見天堂開啟，一如它們

對佛羅倫薩人開啟。

強權諸國本將為我加冠，我這

目前無冕亦無名之人，

我也曾在某個東方的黎明跪在那

聲譽之屋的門檻。

我曾坐在大理石圈上，在那兒最年邁的

游唱詩人一如青年，

風笛不停地滴出蜂蜜，而七弦琴

不停地被彈奏。

濟慈3曾自罌粟籽酒中

撩起他的婚禮卷發，

曾以神圣的唇親吻我的額頭，

以那高貴之愛的手緊握我的手。

而在春季，當蘋果花掠過

鴿子光滑的胸膛，

兩位在果園中的年輕愛侶將會

閱讀我們的愛情故事。

將會閱讀我的熱情傳奇，了解

我心中痛苦的秘密。

他們會像我們一樣地親吻，卻永遠不要

像我倆現在這樣注定分離。

因為我們殷紅的生命之花

被事實的尺蠖所吞噬，

無人能拾起那青春玫瑰

凋零的枯萎花瓣。

然而我不后悔曾愛過你——

啊！我一個男孩還能怎么做——

因為時間饑餓的齒牙總會吞噬一切，

而那步履無聲的歲月總在身后追逐。

沒有舵手，我們在暴風雨中漂泊，一旦

那青春的風暴離去，

沒有七弦琴，沒有魯特琴或歌曲，死神

這寂靜的舵手終于駕臨。

在墳墓中了無樂趣，因為

盲蟲貪婪地啃噬著根，

而欲望戰栗成灰，激情之樹

結不出果實。

啊！除了愛你我還能怎么做，上帝的母親

與我不如你珍貴，

而自海中升起如銀百合的塞西里婭4

也不如你珍貴。

我已做了抉擇，已體驗了我詩中的意境，

而，雖然青春在虛擲的光陰中消逝，

我已發覺愛人的桃金娘花環勝過那

詩人的月桂冠。