playing with my finger

在出生那天我失去了我的纯洁，没有任何理由

因这没有意义的事情和痛苦的生活引起

泼妇是疯的，我年轻而愚蠢

这真是

难以置信，

它们产生于如此恶劣的环境

罪犯们被原住民带领，

紧张，由规则引发动机

我们中的一些人已经出局

——他曾以为我们是不可战胜的

在拐角处猛击和谩骂

我的头脑中充满了致命的仪式，

和教会无关

子弹充满躯体就像我的手

我被恶毒的傻瓜们走运的一手所感动

嘲笑咬了那条分裂被引诱的蛇

我的肾上腺素里充满了愤怒和仇恨

我扮演医生，

那有两颗子弹是你的药

胜利就像武器一样靠近我

炙热的回忆在我身上撕开一个洞

小子，把你的枪上膛，去追捕凶手如何

让他们知道你不是半途而废的人

我走过的每一个地方都是蛇窟

厌倦了，

但我依然得坚强

你厌恶那些你期待了一整天的歌

厌倦了，

但我依然得坚强

我走过的每一个地方都是蛇窟

厌倦了，

但我依然得坚强

在你度过的一生中有那么多来了又走了

面孔改变了，你去的每个地方都得到特许

匪徒们已变得盲目，视线已模糊。

学会了在边缘生存

你进步了很多但是有些仍然拒绝留意

他们不理睬我们，

他们想惹怒我们

你打听我们，

你说些关于我们的废话

跟着我们，

但我不容许

别想挤着我们，黑鬼，

我们要扇你耳光

看看有谁会帮你

你一个人在废弃的城里在家里就像黑鬼麦考利

不要说我的名字，黑鬼，

甚至不要想起我

火从我的烤架上溅出，

你被烤焦，修饰

我是炸药炸掉你的门廊

我吐出毒液比在你保时捷上的猛击更快

毒液如此致命我要让你死去

找到阿拉摩尼，泼妇们，你们都是赝品

我要让你垂头丧气就像你是

去问莫里，你在没用的人里

你说的任何事都会被认为是胡说八道

让我笑死掉

因为我知道什么是那些婊子养的寻找的

你的思想和灵魂吗，如果你没有盲目而冷酷

然后你展现真实的征兆，然后你的思想开花

小子，把你的枪上膛，去追捕凶手如何

小子，把你的枪上膛，去追捕凶手如何

让他们知道你不是半途而废的人

我走过的每一个地方都是蛇窟

厌倦了，但我依然得坚强

你厌恶那些你期待了一整天的歌

厌倦了，但我依然得坚强

我走过的每一个地方都是蛇窟

厌倦了，但我依然得坚强

THE DAGDA'S HARP¹

   You know, dears, in the old countries there are many fine stories about things which happened so very long ago that nobody knows exactly how much of them is

                             达格达的竖琴

    朋友们，你们都知道，在那些古老的王国里，总是流传着很多奇妙的故事。它们流传了那么多年，以至于现在没有人知道它们究竟有多少是真实的。

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true. Ireland is like that. It is so old that even as long ago as four thousand years it had people who dug in the mines, and knew how to weave cloth and to make beautiful ornaments out of gold, and who could fight and make laws; but we do not know just where they came from, nor exactly how they lived. These people left us some splendid stories about their kings, their fights, and their beautiful women; but it all happened such a long time ago that the stories are mixtures of things that really happened and what people said about them, and we don't know just which is which. The stories are called legends. One of the prettiest legends is the story I am going to tell you about the Dagda's harp.

   It is said that there were two quite different kinds of people in Ireland: one set of people with long dark hair and dark eyes, called Fomorians -- they carried long slender spears made of golden bronze when they fought -- and another race of people who were golden-haired and blue-eyed, and who carried short, blunt, heavy spears of dull metal.

   The golden-haired people had a great

爱尔兰就是这样一个古老的国家。远在四千年前就有人们在那里采矿，织布，还会用金子做漂亮的装饰品。他们战斗，建立律法。但是，我们不知道他们从哪里来，也不了解他们当时的生活。那些人们留下了一些好故事，讲诉他们国王，他们的战争还有他们漂亮的女人们。但是那些故事的年代太久远了，它们真真假假混在一起，我们很难分辨哪些是真的，哪些是人们编造的。我们把这些故事称为传说。接下来，我要讲的就是那些传说中最美丽的一个——有关达格达的竖琴的故事。

那时候有两个不同的部族居住在爱尔兰。其中一个是弗莫族，他们有着长长的黑色头发和黑色的眼睛，使用细长的金色铜矛作为武器。另一个部族的人长着金发碧眼，他们的武器小而钝，是一种用很沉的金属打造成的矛。

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chieftain who was also a kind of high priest, who was called the Dagda. And this Dagda had a wonderful magic harp. The harp was beautiful to look upon, mighty in size, made of rare wood, and ornamented with gold and jewels; and it had wonderful music in its strings, which only the Dagda could call out. When the men were going out to battle, the Dagda would set up his magic harp and sweep his hand across the strings, and a war song would ring out which would make every warrior buckle on his armor, brace his knees, and shout, ``Forth to the fight!'' Then, when the men came back from the battle, weary and wounded, the Dagda would take his harp and strike a few chords, and as the magic music stole out upon the air, every man forgot his weariness and the smart of his wounds, and thought of the honor he had won, and of the comrade who had died beside him, and of the safety of his wife and children. Then the song would swell out louder, and every warrior would remember only the glory he had helped win for the king; and each man would rise at the great tables

金发人的部落里有一个首领，也是一个大祭司，人们管他叫达格达。达格达有一架神奇的竖琴，这个竖琴非常大，非常美丽，用珍稀的木材做成，上面镶着金子和宝石。只有达格达才能让它奏出那些极为奇妙的音乐。当人们即将奔赴战场时，达格达就会摆好他那有魔力的竖琴，用手指扫过琴弦，乐音就如号角般响起。战士们听到后，就会扣好盔甲，打起精神，喊道“为胜利而战！！”。然后，当人们从战场上回来，疲惫不堪，伤痕累累，达格达就会拿起他的竖琴，拨动几根琴弦，当这充满魔力的音乐在空中悄然传开，每个人都忘记了伤痛和疲惫。人们想着殊死战斗赢得的荣誉，想着身边牺牲的战友，想着家里的妻儿都安然无恙。这时琴声渐渐大了起来，每个战士都记起他们是为首领赢得荣耀，于是每个人都站起来，举起酒杯，喊道“首领万岁！！首领万岁！！”

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his cup in his hand, and shout ``Long live the King!''

   There came a time when the Fomorians and the golden-haired men were at war; and in the midst of a great battle, while the Dagda's hall was not so well guarded as usual, some of the chieftains of the Fomorians stole the great harp from the wall, where it hung, and fled away with it. Their wives and children and some few of their soldiers went with them, and they fled fast and far through the night, until they were a long way from the battlefield. Then they thought they were safe, and they turned aside into a vacant castle, by the road, and sat down to a banquet, hanging the stolen harp on the wall.

   The Dagda, with two or three of his warriors, had followed hard on their track. And while they were in the midst of their banqueting, the door was suddenly burst open, and the Dagda stood there, with his men. Some of the Fomorians sprang to their feet, but before any of them could grasp a weapon, the Dagda called out to his harp on the wall, ``Come to me, O my harp!''

有一次，弗莫人和金发的部族发生了战争。在这场大战役中，达格达的殿堂没有象以往那样看守严密，几个弗莫人的首领偷偷取下墙上挂着的竖琴，然后就带着它跑了。和他们一起的还有他们的妻儿和几个士兵。在夜幕的笼罩下，他们跑得飞快，不一会儿就离开战场很远了。弗莫人心想现在安全了，于是来到路边一座空着的城堡，把偷来的竖琴挂在墙上，开始举行宴会。

此时，达格达带着他的两三个士兵，正拼命的追赶。当弗莫人的宴会进行得正热闹，城堡的门突然被撞开了，达格达和他的士兵们站在那里。一些弗莫人跳起来，但是他们还来不及抓起武器呢，达格达就朝墙上的竖琴喊道：“回来吧，我的竖琴。”

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   The great harp recognized its master's voice, and leaped from the wall. Whirling through the hall, sweeping aside and killing the men who got in its way, it sprang to its master's hand. And the Dagda took his harp and swept his hand across the strings in three great, solemn chords. The harp answered with the magic Music of Tears. As the wailing harmony smote upon the air, the women of the Fomorians bowed their heads and wept bitterly, the strong men turned their faces aside, and the little children sobbed.

   Again the Dagda touched the strings, and this time the magic Music of Mirth leaped from the harp. And when they heard that Music of Mirth, the young warriors of the Fomorians began to laugh; they laughed till the cups fell from their grasp, and the spears dropped from their hands, while the wine flowed from the broken bowls; they laughed until their limbs were helpless with excess of glee.

   Once more the Dagda touched his harp, but very, very softly. And now a music stole forth as soft as dreams, and as sweet as joy: it was the magic Music of Sleep.

这个魔法竖琴认得它主人的声音，从墙上一跃而起，盘旋着扫过大堂，杀死那些挡住它去路的人，回到主人的手中。达格达拿起他的竖琴，在琴弦上重重地扫出三个庄严的弦音。竖琴用泪水之乐来作为回答，当悲痛的旋律撞入空中，那些强壮的男人们都扭过脸去，孩子们都哭出了声。

又一次，达格达碰了碰琴弦。这次，有魔力的欢笑之乐从竖琴里跃出来，弗莫族年轻的士兵们开始大笑，他们笑得连酒杯和长矛都从手里落下来。当酒从打破的碗中流出来时，他们笑啊笑，笑得浑身都发软了。

再一次，当达格达轻轻地触摸他的竖琴，一种甜蜜、轻柔，如梦似幻的音乐悄悄地流淌出来：这就是睡眠之乐。

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When they heard that, gently, gently, the Fomorian women bowed their heads in slumber; the little children crept to their mothers' laps; the old men nodded; and the young warriors drooped in their seats and closed their eyes: one after another all the Fomorians sank into sleep.

   When they were all deep in slumber, the Dagda took his magic harp, and he and his golden-haired warriors stole softly away, and came in safety to their own homes again.

[1] The facts from which this story was constructed are found in the legend as given in Ireland's Story, Johnston and Spencer (Houghton, Mifflin, & Co.)

当他们听到睡眠之乐时，慢慢地，弗莫族女人们垂下头，进入了梦乡。小孩子们爬向母亲的膝头，老人们打着盹，年轻的士兵们靠在椅子上闭起眼睛。一个接着一个，所有的弗莫人都睡着了。

当他们都睡熟了，达格达拿起他的魔法竖琴带着金发战士们悄悄地离开了，回到了他们自己的领地。

[1]这个故事来源于《爱尔兰的故事》，约翰斯顿和斯宾塞（休顿·米夫林公司）

   Translate for Dreamkidland

   首先要感谢MONKEY对本文的贡献。 然后检讨我的磨蹭和懒惰。

   很FANCY MONKEY所用的一些成语，比如伤痕累累，安然无恙，一跃而起……我自己怎么就没想到这些词呢？还有觉得部族也比种族要用得好。

   我不能接受的，把竖琴改成魔琴，因为只是魔琴就无法明确这是一个什么类型的琴，而且我查看了一些关于达格达的传说，也多是直译成竖琴。

   还有在译童话时，我觉得应该尽量避免使用难词和书面语。最好是用给孩子讲故事的语气，用词简洁明快。所以我没有使用MONKEY所做的“宴会进行得正酣”，“体积硕大”之类的改动。

   ANYWAY,希望下次还有机会来和MONKEY切磋。