有一位母親被旅舍拒絕
在路途中流浪迤邐前行；
在那個地方她無家可歸
所有別的人都安居家中。
附近有一座不堪的牛棚，
梁柱將搖墜，沙土鬆動，
竟然可成為託身的處所
勝過了羅馬的彫梁畫棟。
在日光下有異鄉人流離，
有的人在本家病苦不安，
他們在一天的工作完畢，
都能有枕頭處倒身安眠。
我們有戰爭和眼中火焰，
有時機和意外爭得榮顯，
但我們家在奇妙穹蒼下，
聖誕的故事就如此開展。
一個嬰孩在污穢的馬槽，
牲畜在吃草，口涎橫斜；
當你和我都在家中安居，
只有祂竟然是飄零無家。
頭腦有知識手也有巧技，
但我們有多久心靈失喪！
沒有海圖或船隻能遠航
那穹蒼下不可知的地方。
這世界荒謬像老婦幻言，
淺白的事變成怪誕不經，
足夠的大地足夠的天空，
作我們希奇和我們戰爭；
我們的安息如火蛇搖擺，
我們的和平列為不可能，
環繞著一個奇妙的星球，
階級和衝突在飛翔不停。
世上的人應當都奔向那
在夜晚仍然是開放的家，
到那地方更古老過伊甸，
那城鎮更雄巍高越羅馬。
跟定那隱現迂迴的明星，
到那不可能竟成的事情：
在那裡神卻是成為無家，
所有的人都可回到家中。 |
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stone of Rome.
For men homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost—how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.
This world is wild as an old wive’s tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where classed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place that God was homeless
And all men are at home. |
