06 The Chimney Sweeper 扫烟囱的小男孩

The Chimney Sweeper
扫烟囱的小男孩
William Blake
威廉 布莱克
When my mother died I was very young,
我母亲死的时候，我还小，
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
我父亲把我卖给了别人，
Could scarcely cry "weep! weep! weep! weep!
我当时还不太喊得清”扫呀，扫呀”，
So your chimney I sweep, in soot I sleep.
就这样白天扫你们的烟囱，晚上在烟灰里睡觉。
There's little Tom Dacre who cried when his head
有个小汤姆，头发卷得像羊毛，
That curl'd like a lamb's back, was shav'd, so I said,
剃光的时候，哭得好伤心，好难受，
"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when our head's bare,
我就说：“小汤姆，别哭，光了头，
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
烟灰就不会糟蹋你的头发了。”
And so he was quiet, that very night,
他平静了下来，当天夜里，
As Tom was a-sleeping he had such a sight!
汤姆睡着了，梦见了这样的景象，
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, Jack,
迪克、乔、南德、杰克等千千万万个扫烟菌小孩
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black;
统统被锁进了黑棺材。
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
后来来了个天使，拿了把金钥匙，
And he open Jd the coffins set them all free;
他打开棺材放出了孩子们，
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run
他们又跳又笑地来到了草地上，
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun;
洗浴于河水，晾晒于阳光。
Then naked white, all their bags left behind,
把工具袋丢下，赤条条的，白白的，
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind,
他们升到云端，在风中嬉戏；
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
“只要你做个好孩子，”天使对汤姆说，
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
上帝会做你的父亲，永不缺少欢喜
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
汤姆于是梦醒，我们在黑暗中起床，
Andgotwithourbags ourbrushestowork.
拿起工具袋和刷子去干活。
Tho‘ the morning was cold, Tom was happy warm;
晨风虽冷，汤姆自感心欢温暖；
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.
如果所有人都恪尽职守，就不怕灾难。

扫烟囱的小男孩
威廉 布莱克
我母亲死的时候，我还小，
我父亲把我卖给了别人，
我当时还不太喊得清”扫呀，扫呀”，
就这样白天扫你们的烟囱，晚上在烟灰里睡觉。
有个小汤姆，头发卷得像羊毛，
剃光的时候，哭得好伤心，好难受，
我就说：“小汤姆，别哭，光了头，
烟灰就不会糟蹋你的头发了。”
他平静了下来，当天夜里，
汤姆睡着了，梦见了这样的景象，
迪克、乔、南德、杰克等千千万万个扫烟菌小孩
统统被锁进了黑棺材。
后来来了个天使，拿了把金钥匙，
他打开棺材放出了孩子们，
他们又跳又笑地来到了草地上，
洗浴于河水，晾晒于阳光。
把工具袋丢下，赤条条的，白白的，
他们升到云端，在风中嬉戏；
“只要你做个好孩子，”天使对汤姆说，
上帝会做你的父亲，永不缺少欢喜
汤姆于是梦醒，我们在黑暗中起床，
拿起工具袋和刷子去干活。
晨风虽冷，汤姆自感心欢温暖；
如果所有人都恪尽职守，就不怕灾难。

The Chimney Sweeper
William Blake
When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry "weep! weep! weep! weep!
So your chimney I sweep, in soot I sleep.
There's little Tom Dacre who cried when his head
That curl'd like a lamb's back, was shav'd, so I said,
"Hush, Tom! never mind it, for when our head's bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."
And so he was quiet, that very night,
As Tom was a-sleeping he had such a sight!
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, Jack,
Were all of them lock'd up in coffins of black;
And by came an angel who had a bright key,
And he open Jd the coffins set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing they run
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun;
Then naked white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind,
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father, and never want joy.
And so Tom awoke; and we rose in the dark,
Andgotwithourbags ourbrushestowork.
Tho‘ the morning was cold, Tom was happy warm;
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.