That is no country for old man.The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees,
--Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowel,commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born ,and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unaging intellect.
因緣際會,重讀葉慈的航向拜占庭.魯鈍的我,驀然明白了這是一首傷老的詩.距離初次在英國文學課堂上閱讀,已過了三十年.時間務實而殘酷.時候到了,再蠢也懂.豐盈,感官,歡樂......,年輕的本錢恣意揮霍,不屑不敏於前輩的經驗與智慧,再回首已隔著一片汪洋.青春年華彷如前世.關於衰老,我有近距離的觀察.一種可憐可憫,身不由己的狀態.詩人寫得再好不過了:
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
老人僅能藉由述說豐功偉業來維持自身的尊嚴.而繁瑣的重複徒然令人生厭.
肉身已朽,心已損毀,唯有藝術能讓人重返過去的榮光,流連於年輕的興盛.拜占廷,富裕強盛,金碧輝煌,正是青春無敵的模樣.
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire,perne in a gyre,
And be the singing- masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
唯有藝術不朽:精雕細琢,巧奪天工,冷眼看著一代代的人重複由盛入衰的歷程.剎那即是永恆.芳華正盛的形象封存,全然沒有老這一回事.沒有老就沒有死亡.永恆的藝術遂成為一種救贖.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natureal thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsay Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
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