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英语阅读 • 2020-03-25 1:32 PM • 171 views 他们倾听着歌 低语呢喃 是那仙女夏洛特
On either side of the river lieLong fields of barley and of rye,That clothe the wold and meet the sky;麦覆盖着平野，远接长天
And thro' the field the road runs byAnd up and down the people go,Gazing where the lilies blowRound an island there below,Willows whiten, aspens quiver,Little breezes dusk and shiverThro' the wave that runs for everBy the island in the riverFour gray walls, and four gray towers,Overlook a space of flowers,And the silent isle imbowersBy the margin, willow-veil'dSlide the heavy barges trail'dBy slow horses; and unhail'dThe shallop flitteth silken-sail'dSkimming down to Camelot:But who hath seen her wave her hand?Or at the casement seen her stand?Or is she known in all the land,Only reapers, reaping earlyIn among the bearded barley,Hear a song that echoes cheerlyFrom the river winding clearly,And by the moon the reaper weary,Piling sheaves in uplands airy,Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairyThere she weaves by night and dayA magic web with colours gay.She has heard a whisper say,A curse is on her if she stay倘若她就此停留 魔咒将会降身于她
She knows not what the 'curse' may be,And so she weaveth steadily,And little other care hath she,And moving thro' a mirror clearThat hangs before her all the year,Shadows of the world appear.There she sees the highway nearThere the river eddy whirls,And there the surly village-churls,And the red cloaks of market girls,Pass onward from Shalott.种种影像跃过她眼前
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,An abbot on an ambling pad,Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,Goes by to tower'd Camelot;And sometimes thro' the mirror blueThe knights come riding two and two:She hath no loyal knight and true,But in her web she still delightsTo weave the mirror's magic sights,For often thro' the silent nightsA funeral, with plumes and lights,And music, went to Camelot:Or when the moon was overhead,Came two young lovers lately wed;I am half-sick of shadows, saidA bow-shot from her bower-eaves,He rode between the barley sheaves,The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,And flamed upon the brazen greavesA redcross knight for ever kneel'dThat sparkled on the yellow field,这盾在金黄色田间忽闪
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,Like to some branch of stars we seeHung in the golden Galaxy.The bridle bells rang merrilyAs he rode down to Camelot:And from his blazon'd baldric slungA mighty silver bugle hung,And as he rode his armour rung,All in the blue unclouded weatherThick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,The helmet and the helmet-featherBurn'd like one burning flame together,像燃烧的火焰永不止息
As he rode down to Camelot.As often thro' the purple night,Below the starry clusters bright,Some bearded meteor, burning bright,Moves over still Shalott.His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;From underneath his helmet flow'dHis coal-black curls as on he rode,盔下的漆黑鬈发在飘扬
As he rode down to Camelot.From the bank and from the riverHe flashed into the crystal mirror,Tirra lirra, by the riverShe left the web, she left the loom;She made three paces thro' the room,She saw the water-lily bloom,She saw the helmet and the plume,She look'd down to Camelot.Out flew the web and floated wide;The mirror crack'd from side to side;The curse is come upon me, criedIn the stormy east-wind straining,The pale yellow woods were waning,The broad stream in his banks complaining,Heavily the low sky rainingDown she came and found a boatBeneath a willow left afloat,And round about the prow she wroteAnd down the river's dim expanse--Like some bold seёr in a trance,Seeing all his own mischance--With a glassy countenanceAnd at the closing of the dayShe loosed the chain, and down she lay;The broad stream bore her far away,Lying, robed in snowy whiteThat loosely flew to left and right--The leaves upon her falling light--Thro' the noises of the nightShe floated down to Camelot;And as the boat-head wound alongThe willowy hills and fields among,They heard her singing her last song,Heard a carol, mournful, holy,Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,Till her blood was frozen slowly,And her eyes were darken'd wholly,Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;For ere she reach'd upon the tideThe first house by the water-side,Singing in her song she died,By garden-wall and gallery,A gleaming shape she floated by,Dead-pale between the houses high,Out upon the wharfs they came,Knight and burgher, lord and dame,And round the prow they read her name,Who is this? And what is here?And in the lighted palace nearDied the sound of royal cheer;And they cross'd themselves for fear,All the knights at Camelot:But Lancelot mused a little space;He said, "She has a lovely face;God in his mercy lend her grace, 
