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1、Birches白桦林by Robert FrostWhen I see birches bend to left and rightAcross the lines of straighter darker trees,I like to think some boys been swinging them.But swinging doesnt bend them down to stay.Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen themLoaded with ice a sunny winter morningAfter a rain. T
2、hey click upon themselvesAs the breeze rises, and turn many-colouredAs the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.Soon the suns warmth makes them shed crystal shellsShattering and avalanching on the snow-crustSuch heaps of broken glass to sweep awayYoud think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.They ar
3、e dragged to the withered bracken by the load,And they seem not to break; though once they are bowedSo low for long, they never right themselves:You may see their trunks arching in the woodsYears afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hairBefor
4、e them over their heads to dry in the sun.But I was going to say when Truth broke inWith all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,I should prefer to have some boy bend themAs he went out and in to fetch the cows-Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,Whose only play was what he found himself
5、,Summer or winter, and could play alone.One by one he subdued his fathers treesBy riding them down over and over againUntil he took the stiffness out of them,And not one but hung limp, not one was leftFor him to conquer. He learned all there wasTo learn about not launching out too soonAnd so not car
6、rying the tree awayClear to the ground. He always kept his poiseTo the top branches, climbing carefullyWith the same pains you use to fill a cupUp to the brim, and even above the brim.Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.So was I once mys
7、elf a swinger of birches.And so I dream of going back to be.Its when Im weary of considerations,And life is too much like a pathless woodWhere your face burns and tickles with the cobwebsBroken across it, and one eye is weepingFrom a twigs having lashed across it open.Id like to get away from earth
8、awhileAnd then come back to it and begin over.May no fate wilfully misunderstand meAnd half grant what I wish and snatch me awayNot to return. Earths the right place for love:I dont know where its likely to go better.Id like to go by climbing a birch treeAnd climb black branches up a snow-white trun
9、kToward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,But dipped its top and set me down again.That would be good both going and coming back.One could do worse than be a swinger of birches. 白桦树弯曲，或左或右：每当我看见白桦树穿过又直又黑的树木，我都会想，是个小男孩在荡它们。但是荡，不会像冰那样使它们一直弯着。在冬天的早晨，雨过天晴，你一定会看见白桦树给冰压弯了。当风轻轻吹过来，它们表面的冰块就会碎裂，发出奇妙的喀
10、嚓声，闪射出五颜六色。很快，太阳会撕下它们的水晶外套，又在冻硬的雪地上摔得粉碎?这么一大堆碎玻璃，尽够你扫，你还以为是天顶的华盖塌了下来。重压，会使树枝触到地上的枯草，但是，它们似乎不会折断，不过一旦被压弯了，就再也直不起来；很长时间以后，你会在树林里看见它们还那么弯着，枝叶垂地，好像女孩子手脚并用趴在地上将洗过的头发甩到身后，等太阳晒干。但我要说的是，即便这样，白桦树弯曲是由于冰的缘故，我也还会想：是个小男孩荡弯了它们在他放牛来回路过的时候?这孩子，离城太远，不能玩棒球，那他能玩的，就只有自己的发明，夏天、冬天，他都能自己玩个美。他把他爸爸的白桦树当马骑，一棵又一棵，挨个儿来征服，直到制服了
11、所有的白桦树，没一棵不弯下，没留一棵还能让他征服。他在那儿学到的全部心得，就是爬树时不能太猴急，这样，树就不会一下子弯到地面上。他始终都能保持身体的平衡，稳稳地爬向树梢，爬得小心翼翼，就像你平时往酒杯里斟啤酒，想来个满杯，甚至稍稍冒出点儿。然后，他嗖地一下蹬脚跳开，踢着双腿落下，蹲到地上来。我过去就是这样一个荡树的孩子现在，做梦都想回到那种日子。那总是在我无力思考的时候，而人生太像一座让人迷路的森林，你的脸撞上了蜘蛛网，又痛又痒，忽然一只眼又流泪，因为一根小树枝在它睁着时抽了它一下。我真想离开这人世一时半会儿，然后再回来，重新过日子。但愿命运这东西别误会我的意思，只成全我心愿的一半，把我卷走永
12、远回不来。这人间最适合爱，因为我不知道，还有什么更好的去处。就让我爬上一棵白桦树离去：攀着黑黑的树枝，沿雪白的树干直上，直到那树再也支撑不住，弯下来，把我重新送回到地面。去一下又回来，这样挺好的。人能做的事，比荡白桦树好不到哪去。白桦树挺直、黑黑的树排列成行，只见白桦树却弯下身子，向左，也向右，我总以为有个孩子把白样“荡”弯了可是“荡”一下不会叫它们一躬到底再也起不来。这可是冰干的事。下过一场冬雨，第二天，太阳出来，你准会看到白桦上结满了冰。一阵风吹起，树枝就咯喇喇响，闪射出五彩缤纷，原来这一颤动，冰块坼裂成瓷瓶上的无数细纹。阳光的温暖接着使那水晶的硬壳从树枝上崩落，一齐倾泻在雪地上这么一大堆
13、碎玻璃尽够你打扫，你还以为是天顶的华盖塌了下来。压不起那么些重量的树枝，硬是给按下去，直到贴近那贴地的枯草，但并没折断；虽然压得这么低、这么久那枝条再也抬不起头来。几年后你会在森林里看到那些白桦树弯曲着树身，树叶在地面上拖扫，好像趴在地上的女孩子把一头长发兜过头去好让太阳把头发晒干。方才我说到了哪里？是那雨后的冰柱岔开了我的话头我原是想说：我宁可以为是个放牛的农家孩子来回走过的时候把白话弄弯了。这孩子离城太远，没人教棒球，他只能自个儿想出玩意儿来玩，自个儿跟自个儿玩，不管夏天冬天，他一株一株地征服他父亲的树，一次又一次地把它们骑在胯下，直到把树的倔强劲儿完全制服：一株又一株都垂头丧气地低下来直
14、到他再没有用武之地。他学会了所有的花招：不立刻腾身跳出去，免得一下子把树干扳到了地面。他始终稳住身子，不摇不晃地，直到那高高的顶枝上一一小心翼翼地往上爬，那全神贯注的样儿就像把一杯水倒满，满到了杯口，甚至满过了边缘。然后纵身一跳，他两脚先伸出去，在空中乱踢乱舞，于是飕的一声，降落到地面。当年，我自己也是“荡桦树”的能手，现在还梦想着再去荡一回桦树，那是每逢我厌倦于操心世事，而人生太像一片没有小径的森林，在里面摸索，一头撞在蛛网上，只感到验上又热辣、又痒痒；忽然，一根嫩枝迎面打来，那一只给打中了的眼睛疼得直掉泪。我真想暂时离开人世一会儿，然后再回来，重新干它一番。可是，别来个命运之神，故意曲解我，只成全我愿望的一半，把我卷了走，一去不返。你要爱，就扔不开人世。我想不出还有哪儿是更好的去处。我真想去爬白桦树，沿着雪白的树干爬上乌黑的树枝，爬向那天心，直到树身再支撑不住，树梢碰着地，把我放下来。去去又回来，那该有多好比“荡桦树”更没有意思的事可有的是。（方平译）
