LESSON 12

IT SNOWS

下雪了

Sarah Josepha Hale (b. 1788, d.1879) was born in Newport, N.H. Her maiden name was Buell. In 1814 she married David Hale, an eminent lawyer, who died in 1822. Left with five children to support, she turned her attention to literature. In 1828 she became editor of the “Ladies’ Magazine.” In 1837 this periodical was united with “Godey’s Lady’s Book,” of which Mrs. Hale was literary editor for more than forty years.

1. “It snows!” cries the Schoolboy, “Hurrah!” and his shout

Is ringing through parlor and hall,

While swift as the wing of a swallow, he’s out,

And his playmates have answered his call;

It makes the heart leap but to witness their joy;

Proud wealth has no pleasures, I trow ,

Like the rapture that throbs in the pulse of the boy

As he gathers his treasures of snow;

Then lay not the trappings of gold on thine heirs,

While health and the riches of nature are theirs.

2. “It snows!” sighs the Imbecile , “Ah!” and his breath

Comes heavy, as clogged with a weight;

While, from the pale aspect of nature in death,

He turns to the blaze of his grate;

And nearer and nearer, his soft-cushioned chair

Is wheeled toward the life-giving flame;

He dreads a chill puff of the snow-burdened air,

Lest it wither his delicate frame;

Oh! small is the pleasure existence can give,

When the fear we shall die only proves that we live!

3. “It snows!” cries the Traveler, “Ho!” and the word

Has quickened his steed’s lagging pace;

The wind rushes by, but its howl is unheard,

Unfelt the sharp drift in his face;

For bright through the tempest his own home appeared,

Ay, though leagues intervened , he can see:

There’s the clear, glowing hearth, and the table prepared,

And his wife with her babes at her knee;

Blest thought! how it lightens the grief-laden hour,

That those we love dearest are safe from its power!

4. “It snows!” cries the Belle, “Dear, how lucky!” and turns

From her mirror to watch the flakes fall,

Like the first rose of summer, her dimpled cheek burns!

While musing on sleigh ride and ball:

There are visions of conquests , of splendor, and mirth,

Floating over each drear winter’s day;

But the tintings of Hope, on this storm-beaten earth,

Will melt like the snowflakes away.

Turn, then thee to Heaven, fair maiden, for bliss;

That world has a pure fount ne’er opened in this.

5. “It snows!” cries the Widow, “O God!” and her sighs

Have stifle the voice of her prayer;

Its burden ye’ll read in her tear-swollen eyes,

On her cheek sunk with fasting and care.

’T is night, and her fatherless ask her for bread,

But “He gives the young ravens their food,”

And she trusts till her dark hearth adds horror to dread.,

And she lays on her last chip of wood.

Poor sufferer! that sorrow thy God only knows;

’T is a most bitter lot to be poor when it snows.

【中文阅读】

莎拉·约瑟福·黑尔（1788～1879）出生于美国新罕布什尔州纽波特，她未婚时的名字为布埃尔。1814年，莎拉与著名律师大卫•黑尔结婚，1822年，大卫离世后，给她留下5个嗷嗷待哺的孩子，黑尔夫人随后转向文学。1828年，她成为《妇女杂志》编辑。1837年，该杂志与《戈迪妇女丛书》合并，黑尔夫人担任该杂志文学编辑，长达40多年。

1 ．“下雪了！”一位校园男生高声叫着，“太好啦！”伴随一声尖叫划过门厅，穿过走廊，他像只迅疾的燕子飞奔门外，同学们随即回应他的大呼小叫。不过目睹他们的快乐张扬，你的心在欢跳；窃以为，骄傲的财富绝不会给人带来欣喜，倾慕应该来自那些青春脉搏的活力四射。因为他们捧起来自圣父的雪花馈赠，并非显摆父母给予的财产继承，健康与天籁的得天独厚原本属于他们。

2 ．“下雪了！”愚蠢的人在叹息，“唉呀！”他的呼吸变得如此滞重，似乎心有所雍；从死亡本质的惨白里，他不得不求助壁炉里烈火的熊熊温暖；那优裕的温柔乡愈来愈近，旋转着冲向赋以生命形式的骨骼，他害怕风中卷起的寒意彻骨，唯恐会摧毁他那孱弱不堪的肉体。噢，生存给予的快乐那么微不足道，人类无法逃脱死亡的恐惧仅仅证明，他，依然苟延残喘。

3 ．“下雪了！”路途上行者发出感叹。“驾！”他策马加鞭，加快速度。风，在肆虐，但他难以听见风的尖利呼啸，只有刀子般扑面的疼痛；光，冲破风雪弥漫，他已看到前方；家，隐约在现。心灵相通的人儿，他能看见家里壁炉明净温暖，桌台已摆好，孩子们趴在妻子膝间玩耍，全家人都在焦急地等他。唯有蒙恩念想，才能减轻辛勤劳作的悲哀。我挚爱的亲人们呵，从主的祝福中获得安宁。

4 ．“下雪了！”美女惊叹，“天呀，实在太美了！”她从镜中转身，窗外雪花飘落，宛若夏季第一朵玫瑰，她的脸上浮出笑意酒窝。恍惚中雪橇飞奔，还有豪华盛装舞会，红男绿女，欢歌浅笑，烟水繁华，柔情似水，打发那绵延不断的忧郁冬日。历尽风雨沧桑，希望之星黯淡，是否像那雪花融尽，倏忽不知所踪？不妨祈求上帝还有圣母赐予祝福！那才是未曾开启的醇美清泉。

5 ．“下雪了！”寡妇哀叹，“哦，我的上帝！”她的叹息声声盖过了她的祷告。从她泪水浸泡的眼里，可以听见心在慢慢撕裂；她颧骨下陷，象征饥谨悲哀的呼号。在这个雪花飘落的冬夜，失去父亲的孩子向她伸手祈求面包。“万能的主，请哺食那些幼小寒鸦。”她仍然怀有希望，直到冰冷的壁炉落满恐惧，或者绝望，直到她将最后一片细柴投进炉腔。悲哀的母亲！唯独上帝才能洞悉你的苦难，雪花降临，那是穷人难以迈过的道道鬼门关。