瓦尔特ˇ惠特曼
(WALT WHITMAN)

《我听见美洲在歌唱》和《啊ˇ船长ˇ我的船长ˇ》
I Hear America Singing and O Captain! My Captainˇ

作者修改《啊ˇ船长ˇ我的船长ˇ》
(American Memory Collection, Library of Congress)
　

瓦尔特ˇ惠特曼(1819ˇ1892)生于纽约长岛ˇ在纽约市布鲁克林区长大。他当过印刷工、记者、教师和政府职员ˇ主编过好几份报纸ˇ其中包括《布鲁克林鹰报》。

1855年ˇ惠特曼自费出版《草叶集》ˇ只印了九百本左右ˇ其中大部分都送给他的朋友。这本薄薄的诗集共收了十二首无题诗另加一篇前言ˇ起初并没引起多少人注意。然而它终究述是影ˇ了几代美国诗人。惠特曼创新的自由诗ˇˇ不押韵脚ˇ不拘音步ˇˇ以及他ˇ实主义的形ˇ和个人风格都表明他与因循守旧的诗歌断然决裂。惠特曼一生中都定期扩充和修订《草叶集》。

《我听见美洲在歌唱》发表于1860年。《啊ˇ船长!我的船长》写于林肯被刺后不久ˇ发表在惠特曼 的《桴鼓集续篇》(1865ˇ66)里。

我听见美洲在歌唱

我听见美洲在砍唱ˇ我听见各种不问的颂歌ˇ
技工在歌唱ˇ歌唱他们愉快而强健的歌ˇ
木匠在歌唱ˇ同时量着他的木板或衍木ˇ
泥瓦匠在歌唱ˇ唱在准备上工或下工的时候ˇ
船工在歌唱ˇ唱他船里的一切ˇ水手也站在汽艇的甲板上歌唱、
鞋匠坐在登上歌唱ˇ帽匠站着歌唱ˇ
伐木工在歌唱ˇ犁田青年也在歌唱ˇ
他们唱在早晨的路上ˇ或唱在午间休息时ˇ或唱在日落时分ˇ
我还听见母亲的美妙歌声ˇ或者年轻的妻子一边工
作一边歌唱ˇ或者姑娘们一边缝一边歌唱或一边洗一边歌唱ˇ
人人都在唱属于他或她而不属于别人的歌ˇ
白天唱属于白天的歌ˇˇ晚间ˇ年轻人聚在一起ˇ他们强壮而友好ˇ
放声歌唱他们强健而和谐的歌。

啊ˇ船长ˇ我的船长ˇ

啊ˇ船长ˇ我的船长ˇ我们可怕的航程已经终了ˇ
我们的船已安然渡过所有的难关ˇ我们所追求的锦标也已经得到ˇ
港口就在前面ˇ我已听见钟声ˇ听到了人们的欢呼ˇ
千万只眼睛都在望着我们的船安稳前进ˇ它是那样威严和勇敢ˇ
可是ˇ啊ˇ心哟!心哟ˇ心哟!
啊ˇ鲜红的血滴ˇ
就在那甲板上ˇ我的船长躺下了ˇ
他已浑身冰冷ˇ心脏停止了跳动。

啊ˇ船长ˇ我的船长ˇ起来听听这钟声ˇ
起来吧ˇˇˇ旌旗爲你招展ˇˇˇ号角爲你长鸣ˇ
爲你ˇ岸上挤满了人群ˇˇ爲你ˇ人们准备了无数的花束和花环ˇ
爲你。这雀跃的人群在欢呼ˇ他们殷切的脸正对着你看ˇ
这里ˇ船长ˇ亲爱的父亲ˇ
让你的头枕着我的手臂ˇ
真ˇ是梦ˇ躺在甲板上ˇ
你已浑身冰冷ˇ心脏停止了跳动。

我的船长没有回答ˇ他的嘴唇惨白ˇ”一动不动ˇ
我的父亲没有感觉到我的手臂ˇ他已经没有脉搏ˇ也没有意志ˇ
我们的船已安全地下锚了ˇ它的航程已经终了ˇ
从可怕的航程归来ˇ这胜利的船ˇ目的已经达到ˇ
啊ˇ海岸欢呼ˇ钟声长鸣ˇ
可我却以悲痛的步履ˇ
漫步在甲板上ˇ那里躺着我的船长
他已浑身冰冷ˇ心脏停止了跳动。

I Hear America Singing
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the dayˇat night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

O Captain! My Captain!
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
    But O heart! heart! heart!
        O the bleeding drops of red,
           Where on the deck my Captain lies,
               Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise upˇfor you the flag is flungˇfor you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreathsˇfor you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
    Flere Captain! dear father!
       This arm beneath your head!
            It is some dream that on the deck,
               You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
     Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
         But I with mournful tread,
            Walk the deck my Captain lies,
                Fallen cold and dead.