A Buddhist Monk
When day has done tolling its bells, it’s another day,
And a monk dreams a profound and pallid dream:
Over how many years, shadows and traces are left behind,
In the memory seen only in a glimpse,
In the ruined temple, everywhere a vague scent pervades,
Lamented bones are left in the censer as of old,
Along with the sad fate of loyal youths, faithful maidens,
Wearily wriggling through the Buddhist sutras forever.
In a deep stupor, dream-talk foams out at the mouth,
His head once again faces the skull-like drum,
His head, the drum, are alike empty and heavy,
One knock after another, mesmerizing mountains and streams,
The mountains and streams slumber indolently in the evening mist,
And once more, he is done tolling the dolorous bell of another day.
未经允许不得转载：帕布莉卡 » 卞之琳《一个和尚》 ~ 文学翻译-经典英译-中英双语赏析