THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH

一棵栗子树延伸宽广，Under a speading chestnut-tree

乡下铁匠铺靠在树旁；The village smithy stands；

铁匠是个有力气的汉子，　The smith， a mighty man is he，

一双大手又粗又强壮；With large and sinewy hands；

胳臂上鼓鼓囊囊的肌肉And the muscles of his brawny arms

结实得就象铁打的一样。　Are strong as iron bands.

他拳曲的头发又黑又长，　His hair is crisp， and black， and long，

脸色象树皮一样焦黄；　His face is like the tan；

额上淌的是老实人的汗水，His brow is wet with honest sweat，

凭力气干活，取得报偿；　He earns whate'er he can，

他扬眉睁眼望着全世界，　And looks the whole world in the face，

因为他不欠任何人的帐。For he owes not any man.

星期连星期，早上到晚上，Week in， week out，  from morn till night，

听得见他那鸣奏的风箱；　You can hear his bellows blow；

听得见他抡起沉重的大锤，You can hear him swing his heavy sledge，

节奏分明，缓慢的敲响，　With the measured beat and slow，

象教堂司事把晚钟敲动，　Like a sexon ringing the village bell，

当夕阳渐渐沉向西方。　When the evening sun is low.

每天，孩子们放学回家，And the children coming home from school

从敞开的门口向屋里张望；Look in at the open door；

他们爱看那红红的炉火，They love to see the flaming forge，

爱听那鸣鸣吼叫的风箱，　And hear the bellows roar，

补捉那爆出的火花点点，　And catch the burning sparks that fly

象打谷场上飞迸的谷糠。　Like chaff from a threshing floor.

一到星期天，他就上教堂，He goes on Sunday to the church，

坐在他的孩子们中央；　And sits among his boys；

他听牧师讲道和祈祷，He hears the parson pray and preach，

也听村里唱诗班合唱，　He hears his daughter's voice，

听出了他的女儿的嗓音，Sings in the village choir，

使他止不住心花怒放。　And it makes his heart rejoice.

他听来，这嗓音就象他母亲  It sounds to him like her mother's voice，

歌唱在光明圣洁的天堂！　Singing in Paradise！

他不禁又一次把她怀想：　He needs must think of her once more，

不知墓穴里她睡得怎样？　How in the grave she lies；

他用又粗又硬的大手　And with his hard，  rough hand he wipes

把一滴泪水抹出了眼眶。　 A tear out of his eyes.

辛苦劳作——快乐——悲伤，　 Toiling， —— rejoicing，  —— sorrowing，

一步步走在人生的路上；　Onward through life he goes；

每天早上有活计开始，　Each morning sees some task begin，

每天晚上有活计收场；　Each evening sees it close；

有的起了头，有的干完了，Something attempted， something done，

给他挣来了一夜的酣畅。　Has earned a night's repose.

谢谢你了，我可敬的朋友！ Thanks， thanks to thee， my worthy friend，

谢谢你的教益和榜样！　For the lesson thou hast taught！

我们的命运也得要锤炼，Thus at the flaming forge of life

要经受人生的炉火风箱；　Our fortunes must be wrought；

在叮当震响的铁砧展上锤出　Thus on its sounding anvilshaped

火花四射的事业和思想。　Each burning deed and thought.

朗费罗