The Blind
— Charles Baudelaire

Consider them, my soul; they are a fright!
Like mannequins, vaguely ridiculous,
Peculiar; terrible somnambulists;
Beaming ── who can say where ── their eyes of night.

Their orbs, in which a spark is never seen,
As if in looking far and wide stayed raised
On high; they never see to cast their gaze
Down to the street, head hung, as in a dream.

Thus they traverse the blackness of their days,
Kin to the silence of eternity.
o city! while you laugh and roar and play,

Mad with your lusts to point of cruelty,
Look at me! dragging, dazed more than their kind.
What in the Skies can these men hope to find?


                                                            盲者
                                                    ──波特萊爾

                                      心靈，想想他們；是多麼惶恐！
                                          彷彿呆若木頭，錯愕絕倫，
                                          獨行於世，竟是夢遊失神；
                                      閃爍──向哪？那夜魅的眼光。

                                          那眼球，爍火是不曾見過，
                                            彷彿望盡遐邇，佇落於
                                          天之上；卻不想投以一瞥
                                        貼近街面、垂首、如睡夢中。

                                            而那眸子度過日日黑夜，
                                                卻更近於永恆之靜。
                                 喔 城市！當你笑、你喧囂、你嬉戲，

                                          癲狂於殘冷的想望之顛峰，
                                  看看我！是拖沓、目眩，更勝其輩。
                                      而望著天，又能覓出何等希望？

※ 編輯: Chaika          來自: 118.160.172.223      (12/01 11:23)