Flowers fade and fly,
and flying fill the sky;
Their bloom departs, their perfume gone,
yet who stands pitying by?
And wandering threads of gossamer
on the summer-house are seen,
And falling catkins lightly dew-steeped
strike the embroidered screen.
A girl within the inner rooms,
I mourn that spring is done,
A veil of sorrow binds my heart,
and solace there is none.
I pass into the garden,
and I turn to use my hoe,
Treading over fallen glories
as I lightly come and go.
There are willow-sprays and flowers of elm,
and these have scent enough.
I care not if the peach and plum,
are stripped from every bough.
The peach-tree and the plum-tree too
next year may bloom again,
But next year, in the inner rooms,
tell me, shall I remain?
By the third moon new fragrant nests
shall see the light of day,
New swallows fly among the beams,
each on its thoughtless way.
Next year once more they'll seek their food
among the painted flowers,
But I may go, and beams may go,
and with them swallow bowers.
Three hundred days and sixty make
a year, and therein lurk
Daggers of wind and swords of frost
to do their cruel work.
How long will last the fair fresh flower
which bright and brighter glows?
One morning its petals float away,
but to where no-one knows.
Gay bloooming buds attract the eye,
faded they're lost to sight;
Oh, let me sadly bury them
beside these steps tonight.
Alone, unseen, I seize my hoe,
with many a bitter tear;
They fall upon the naked stem
and stains of blood appear.
The night-jar now has ceased to mourn,
the dawn comes on apace,
I seize my hoe and close the gates,
leaving the burying-place;
But not until sunbeams dot the wall
does slumber soothe my care,
The cold rain pattering on the pane
as I lie shivering there.
You wonder that with flowing tears
my youthful cheek is wet;
They partly rise from angry thoughts,
and partly from regret.
Regret that spring comes suddenly;
and anger that it cannot last.
No sound to announce its approach,
or warn us when it's passed.
Last night within the garden
sad songs were faintly heard,
Sung, as I knew, by spirits,
spirits of flower and bird.
We cannot keep them here with us,
these much-loved birds and flowers,
They sing but for a season's space,
and bloom a few short hours.
If only I on a feathered wing
might soar aloft and fly,
With flower spirits I would seek
the rooms within the sky.
But high in the air
What grave is there?
No, give me an embroidered bag
within to lay their charms,
And Mother Earth, pure Mother Earth,
shall hide them in her arms.
Thus those sweet forms which spotless came
shall spotless go again,
Nor pass dirty with mud and filth
along some filthy drain.
Farewell, dear flowers, forever now,
thus buried as was best,
I have not yet divined when I
with you shall sink to rest.
I who can bury flowers like this
a laughing-stock shall be;
I cannot say in days to come
what hands shall bury me.
See how when spring begins to fail
each opening flower fades;
So too there is a time of age
and death for beautiful maids;
And when the fleeting spring is gone,
and days of beauty over,
Flowers fall, and lovely maidens die,
and both are known no more.

花謝花飛飛滿天，紅消香斷有誰憐？
游絲軟繫飄春榭，落絮輕沾撲繡簾。
閨中女兒惜春暮，愁緒滿懷無釋處﹐
手把花鋤出繡簾，忍踏落花來復去。
柳絲榆莢自芳菲，不管桃飄與李飛，
桃李明年能再發，明年閨中知有誰﹖
三月香巢初壘成，樑間燕子太無情；
明年花發雖可啄，卻不道人去樑空巢已傾？
一年三百六十日， 風刀霜劍嚴相逼。
明媚鮮妍能几時？一朝漂泊難尋覓。
花開易見落難尋， 階前悶煞葬花人﹐
獨把花鋤淚暗灑，灑上空枝見血痕。
杜鵑無語正黃昏，荷鋤歸去掩重門。
青燈照壁人初睡，冷雨敲窗被未溫！
怪儂底事倍傷神？半為憐春半惱春。
憐春忽至惱忽去，至又無言去不聞。
昨宵亭外悲歌發，知是花魂與鳥魂﹖
花魂鳥魂總難留，鳥自無言花自羞。
願儂此日生雙翼，隨花飛到天盡頭——
天盡頭！何處有香坵？
　
未若錦囊收艷骨，一坏淨土掩風流。
質本潔來還潔去，強於污淖陷渠溝。
爾今死去儂收葬，未卜儂身何日喪！
儂今葬花人笑痴，他年葬儂知是誰﹖
試看春殘花漸落，便是紅顏老死時。
一朝春盡紅顏老，花落人亡兩不知！

我英譯中水平如何啊? 如何?

基本上已经超越了曹老师雪芹叔叔. 他写那些句子花了N年, 你也就花了一袋烟的工夫吧.

顺便吻一哈: 你是谁? 水平这么高? 呵呵

所花何需一袋煙?
乾坤挪移自古哥。
笑問取巧者是誰,
心是主人身是客。

小李老杜快想辙
罗裳戏舞身是客
上网轻吟诗一首
下得俺把唐人借

和得俺满身冒汗全身发烫. 有文化的事就是做不来! 藏个头可真不容易.

本人對《紅樓夢》甚感興趣，對其翻譯亦如是，不知誰知道hawkes那本筆記如何購得，我想買一本。知道者能否跟我聯係，多謝。

亮亮：

抱歉遲复，今天才有空去書店，替你將這本書找了找。資料如下：

《The story of the Stone—A translation’s Notebooks紅樓夢翻譯筆記》
作者：霍克思(David Hawkes)
香港嶺南大學出版社
簡裝本：1200.-元/本(即我日記里的這一本)
精裝本：1500.-元/本(褐色硬皮封面，還沒簡裝好看)

老實説，我沒料到這么貴。只是他翻譯手寫的一些思緒、亂劃的圖示等草稿，除了封面很古雅，里面一點也不好看的。也沒多少張紙。至於他所譯的英譯本《紅樓夢》，他選名為《The Story of The Stone》，一至五冊，也有售：

208+256+256+224+224=共1168元

我覺得在這里買書，太貴了。我自己會在圖書館借閱，實在喜歡的，回國內找尋購買。不知道他的英譯文，國內有沒有出版社出版？如你還需要什么資料, 或需要我幫忙, 可以留言, 也可以給我郵件. shenshike@yahoo.com.hk

另，還有楊憲益與戴乃迭夫婦所譯的《紅樓夢》(A Dream of Red Mansions)。二個翻譯版本，基本上，對霍克思的評價略高。轉載一段网文你參閱：

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（作者：趙武平）

對於《紅樓夢》的譯本，私下意見各不相同。其實多數人的結論不是一己閱讀心得，無非是以耳代目，道聽途說而已。說來有些心虛，因為我也一度懷疑楊憲益的譯本：中國人會有給外國人譯書的能力？除去《聖經》不談，又有哪部世界名著，靠外國人替我們譯成中文且影響深遠？我似乎有些偏向於相信，霍克思的譯本更有魅力。

　　等到看見劉紹銘的有關評論，我的疑心就愈發得到加強。他曾坦言，"楊憲益夫婦譯《紅樓夢》，嘔心瀝血，若無霍克思(David Hawkes)譯本同時出現分庭抗禮，楊氏文彩不足的地方，常人也不易看出來。可是拿霍氏譯文對照一下，不必專家也可以看出楊譯技遜一籌。"(《遣愚衷》，三聯書店香港分店1987年1月初版，頁150)然而，劉的評點沒有特別大的說服力，因為他沒有給出楊譯何以遜色的具體例證。周玨良也厚愛霍譯，並曾說"霍譯本最大的好處在於它能傳原書之神，讀來往往使讀者不覺它是翻譯品。……若不是有Baoyu， Daiyu這兩個面生的名字，讀來簡直像是亨利﹒詹姆士(Henry James)小說裡的章節，可是同原文對讀又可看出並不失原意，確是佳譯。"(《周玨良文集》，外語教學與研究出版社1994年5月初版，頁219，《讀霍克斯英譯本〈紅樓夢〉》)他還說，"……自來讀翻譯文學作品的，不外兩種人。一種是不能讀原文的讀者，他們要求譯文讀起來大體像是原著，因之就要求譯筆流暢而不晦澀，林(紓)譯小說之所以風行一時，就在於他能以當時人們習慣的古文譯西洋小說，至於譯文對原文有多忠實，此類讀者是不大在意的。另一種讀者是能讀原文的，他們除了要求從譯文裡得到藝術享受外，不免還要注意到它是否忠實於原著，譯筆的特點，要求從這裡看出些'門道'來。我認為霍譯本《紅樓夢》對這兩種讀者的要求都是能滿足的。"

　　周玨良不同於劉紹銘，他雖有心褒霍但無貶楊之意。在英文札記《近年來〈紅樓夢〉研究概述》(同上，頁350)裡，他對霍楊二譯品評恰當而且公允。他說：這部小說現有的兩個全譯本，即霍克斯的《石頭記》(The Story of the Stone)和楊憲益與戴乃迭的《紅樓夢》(A Dream of Red Mansions)，風格迥異但各得其所。雖說霍譯本藉雅緻取勝，楊氏夫婦譯本則以準確見長，但卻並不意味一個譯本不精確，而另一個欠典雅。其實，兩個譯本不僅互為補充，而且放在一起，就能讓所有無法閱讀中文但卻對這部書有興趣的好奇者，得到更加真實和完整的圖景，如同披攬原著一般。

＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

慚愧，我沒去讀過這二個譯本，只曾對照看了一小段。我個人感覺，霍是站在英文角度，將《紅樓夢》拉進英文去；楊是站在中文角度，將《紅樓夢》推進英文里去。可能因為霍克思是外國人？英文為第一語言，故譯文讀來特別舒服。而楊（他太太戴是西人，輔助他，隔了一層？），句式比較冗長，讀來比較別扭。但是，楊可以譯精確許多中國的傳統東西，一些只可意會的，霍克思譯的過程中會有點流失。所以看霍克思的，不免會有若有所失、似是而非的惆悵。

以上資料供你參考，個人感覺，也乘機說出來。見笑。