Ode to the West Wind
Percy Bysshe Shelley
1
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes:O thou
Who chariltest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odors plain and hill:
Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and presserver; hear, oh, hear!
2
Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion,
Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shedd,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,
angels of rain and lightning:there are spread
On the blue surface of thine airy surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head
Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the Zenith's height,
The locks of the approaching storm.Thou dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapoursr, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire , and hail will burst :oh, hear!
3
Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams
Beside a pumice isle in Baiae's bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and fowers
Quivering within the eave's intenser day,
All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them!Thou
For whose path the Atlantic's level powers
Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know
Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear,
And tremble and esepoil themselves:oh, hear!
4
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee:
A wave to pant beneath thy power , and share
The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even
I were as im my boyhood, and could be
The comrade of thy wanderigs over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seem'd a vision; I would ne'er have striven
As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh, lift me as a wave , a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!
A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too lke thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
5
Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leavers are falling like its own!
The tmult of thy mighty harmonies
Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like witheered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And , by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, is from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes , can Spring be far behind?
雪莱（1792-1822）,生于英国萨塞克斯郡.1816年往瑞士,与拜伦结为好友.1822年与友人驾帆船出海,遇暴风,舟沉身亡.作品包括长诗《仙后麦布》（Queen Mab）、《阿多尼斯》（Adonais）等.
《西风颂》,全诗五节,每节的韵脚安排是：aba,bcb,cdc,ded,ee.
西风颂
波西.比希.雪莱
1
呵,狂野的西风,你把秋气猛吹,
不露脸便将落叶一扫而空,
犹如法师赶走了群鬼,
赶走那黄绿红黑紫的一群
那些染上了瘟疫的魔怪——
呵,你让种子长翅腾空,
又落在冰冷的土壤里深埋,
象尸体躺在坟墓,但一朝
你那青色的东风妹妹回来,
为沉睡的大地吹响银号
驱使羊群般的蓓蕾把大气猛喝,
就吹出遍野嫩色,处处香飘.
狂野的精灵!你吹遍了大地山河,
破坏者,保护者,听吧——听我的歌!
2
你激荡长空,乱云飞坠
如落叶；你摇撼天和海,
不许它们象老树缠在一堆；
你把雨和电赶了下来,
只见蓝空上你骋驰之处
忽有万丈金发披开,
象是洒神的女祭司勃然大努,
愣把她的长发遮住了半个天,
将暴风雨的来临宣布.
你唱着挽歌送别残年,
今夜这天空宛如圆形的大墓,
罩住了混浊的云雾一片,
却挡不住电火和冰雹的突破,
更有黑雨倾家荡产盆而下!呵,听我的歌!
3
你惊扰了地中海的夏日梦,
它在清澈的碧水里静躺,
听着波浪的催眠曲,睡意正浓,
朦胧里它看见南国港外石岛旁,
烈日下古老的宫殿和楼台
把影子投在海水里晃荡,
它们的墙上长满了花朵和藓苔,
那香气光想想也叫人醉倒!
你的来临叫太西洋也惊骇,
它们把海水劈成两半,为你开道,
海底下有琼枝玉树安卧,
尽管深潜万丈,一听你的恕号
就闻声而变色,只见一个个
战栗——呵,听我的歌!
4
如果我能是一片落叶随便你飘腾,
如果我能是一朵流云伴你飞行,
或是一个浪头在你的威力下翻滚,
如果我能有你的锐势和冲劲,
即使比不上你那不羁的奔放,
但只要能拾回我当年的童心,
我就能陪着你遨游天上,
那时候追上你未必是梦呓,
又何至沦落到这等颓丧,
祈求你来救我之急!
呵,卷走我吧,象卷落叶,波浪,流云!
我跌在人生的刺树上,我血流遍体!
岁月沉重如铁链,压着的灵魂
原本同你一样：高傲,飘逸,不驯.
5
让我做你的竖琴吧,就是森林一般,
纵然我们都落叶纷纷,又有何妨!
我们身上的秋色斑烂,
好给你那狂飚曲添上深沉的回响,
甜美而带苍凉.给我你迅猛的劲头!
豪迈的精灵,化成我吧,借你的锋芒,
把我的腐朽思想扫出宇宙,
扫走了枯叶把新生来激发；
凭着我这诗韵做符咒,
犹如从未灭的炉头吹出火花,
把我的话散布在人群之中!
对那沉睡的大地,拿我的嘴当嗽,
吹响一个预言!呵,西风,
冬天已到,春天还会远吗?