我愿做無優(yōu)無慮的小孩，

仍然居住在高原的洞穴，

或是在微曛的曠野里徘徊，

或是在暗藍的海波上騰躍；

撒克遜浮華的繁文縟禮

不合我生來自由的意志，

我眷念坡道崎嶇的山地，

我向往狂濤撲打的巨石.

命運啊！請收回豐熟的田疇，

收回這響亮的尊榮稱號！

我厭惡被人卑屈地迎候，

厭惡被奴仆躬身環(huán)繞。

把我放回我酷愛的山岳，

聽山巖應和咆哮的海洋；

我只求讓我重新領(lǐng)略

我從小熟悉的故國風光。

我雖然年少，也能感覺出

這世界決不是為我而設(shè)；

幽冥的暗影為何要冪覆

世人向塵寰告別的時刻？

我也曾瞥見輝煌的夢境----

極樂之鄉(xiāng)的神奇幻覺；

真相??！為何你可憎的光明

喚醒我面臨這么個世界？

我愛過---所愛的人們已離去；

有朋友---早年的友誼已終結(jié)；

孤苦的心靈怎能不憂郁，

當原有的希望都黯然熄滅！

縱然酒宴中歡謔的伙伴們

把惡劣情懷驅(qū)散了片刻；

豪興能振奮癡狂的靈魂，

心兒呵，心兒卻永遠寂寞。

多無聊！去聽那些人閑談：

那些人與我非敵非友，

是門第、權(quán)勢、財富或機緣

使他們與我在筵前聚首。

把幾個忠誠的密友還給我！

還是原來的年紀和心情！

躲開那半夜喧囂的一伙---

他們的歡樂不過是虛名。

美人，可愛的美人！你就是

我的希望，慰籍，和一切？

連你那笑靨的魅力也消失，

我心中怎能不奇寒凜冽！

又富麗又慘苦的繁囂俗境，

我毫無嘆息，愿從此告辭；

我只要怡然知足的恬靜---

“美德”熟識它，或似曾相識。

告別這熙來攘往的去處---

我不恨人類，只是想避開；

我癡心尋覓陰沉的幽谷，

那暝色契合我晦暗的胸懷。

但愿能給我一雙翅膀：

象斑鳩飛回棲宿的巢里，

我也要展翅飛越穹蒼，

飄然遠引，得享安息。

楊德豫 譯

感謝一點通的投稿 :)

英文原文：

I would I were a careless child 
By George Gordon Byron 
I would I were a careless child, 
Still dwelling in my Highland cave, 
Or roaming through the dusky wild, 
Or bounding o'er the dark blue wave; 
The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride 
Accords not with the freeborn soul, 
Which loves the mountain's craggy side, 
And seeks the rocks where billows roll. 
Fortune! Take back these cultured lands, 
Take back this name of splendid sound! 
I hate the touch of servile hands, 
I hate the slaves that cringe around. 
Place me among the rocks I love, 
Which sound to Ocean's wildest roar; 
I ask but this - again to rove 
Through scenes my youth hath known before. 
Few are my years, and yet I feel 
The world was ne'er designed for me: 
Ah! why do dark'ning shades conceal 
The hour when man must cease to be? 
Once I beheld a splendid dream, 
A visionary scene of bliss: 
Truth!- wherefore did thy hated beam 
Awake me to a world *** this? 
I loved - but those I loved are gone; 
Had friends - my early friends are fled: 
How cheerless feels the heart alone, 
When all its former hopes are dead! 
Though gay companions o'er the bowl 
Dispel awile the sense of ill; 
Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul, 
The heart - the heart - is lonely still. 
How dull! to hear the voice of those 
Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power, 
Have made, though neither friends nor foes 
Associates of that festive hour. 
Give me again the faithful few, 
In years and feelings still the same, 
And I will fly the ***night crew, 
Where boist'rous joy is but a name. 
And woman, lovely woman! thou, 
My hope, my comfortet, my all! 
How cold must be my bosom now, 
When e'en thy smiles begin to pall! 
Without a sigh would I resign 
This busy scene of splendid woe, 
To make that calm contentment mine, 
Which virtue knows, or seems to know. 
Fain would I fly the haunts of men - 
I seek to shun, not hate mankind; 
My breast requires the sullen glen, 
Whose gloom may suit a darken'd mind. 
Oh! that to me the wings were given 
Which bear the turtle to her nest! 
Then I would cleave the vault of heaven, 
To flee away, and be at rest.