CRONIAMANTAL
God I am tired, not of walking but of being alone. I am thirsty—not for wine, hydromel or beer, but for water, fresh water from that lovely wood where the grass and the trees are rose at every dawn, but where no spring arrests the progress of the parched1 traveller. The walk has sharpened my appetite; I am hungry, though not for the flesh nor for fruit, but for bread, good solid bread, swollen2 like mammals, bread, round as the moon and gilded3 as she.
He arose then. He went deep into the woods and came to the clearing, where he was to meet Tristouse Ballerinette. The damsel had not yet arrived. Croniamantal longed for a fountain and his imagination, or perhaps some sorcerer's talent in himself which he had never suspected, caused a limpid4 water suddenly to flow among the grass.
Croniamantal flung himself down and drank avidly5, when he heard the voice of a woman singing far off:
Dondidondaine
'Tis the shepherdess beloved of the king
Who has gone to the fountain
Dondidondaine
In the dewy fields, all blossoming
To the fountain
But here comes Croquemitaine
To the fountain
And Hickorydock! advance no further.
CRONIAMANTAL
Dost thou think already of her who sings? Thou laughest dully in this clearing. Dost thou believe that she has been rounded like a round table for the equality of men and weeks? Thou knowest well, the days do not resemble each other.
About the round table, the good are no longer equal; one has the sun in his face, it dazzles him and soon quits him for his neighbor. Another has his shadow before him. All are good, and good thou art thyself, but they are no more equal than the day and the night.
THE VOICE
Croquemitaine
Wears the rose and the lilac
The king rides off—Hello Germaine
—Croquemitaine
CRONIAMANTAL
The voices of women are always ironical7. Is the weather always fair? Someone is already damned instead of me. It is nice in the deep woods. Hearken no longer to the voice of woman! Ask! Ask!
THE VOICE
—Hello Germaine
I come to love between thine arms
—Ah! Sire, our cow is full
—Really Germaine
—Your servant also, I believe.
CRONIAMANTAL
THE VOICE
The cow is full
When autumn comes she'll calve
Farewell my king Dondidondaine
The cow is full
And my heart empty without thee
Croniamantal stands on the tip of his toes to see if he can perceive through the branches the so-beloved who comes.
THE VOICE
Dondidondaine
But when will come my Croquemitaine
At the fountain it is very cold
Dondidondaine
After the winter I shall be less cold.
In the clearing there appeared a young girl, svelte9 and brunette. Her countenance10 was sombre and starred with roving eyes like birds of bright plumage. Her sparse11 but short hair left her neck bare; her hair was tousled and dark, and by the skipping rope which she carried, Croniamantal recognized her to be Tristouse Ballerinette.
CRONIAMANTAL
No further, child with bare arms! I shall come to you myself. Someone has just hushed under the pines and will be able to overhear us.
TRISTOUSE
This one is surely the issue of an egg, like Castor and Pollax. I recall how my mother, who was very foolish, used to talk to me about them of long evenings. The hunter of serpent's eggs, son of the serpent himself,—I am afraid of those old memories.
CRONIAMANTAL
Have no fear, woman of the naked arms. Stay with me. My lips are filled with kisses. Here, here. I lay them on thy brow, on thy hair. I caress12 thy hair with its ancient perfume. I caress thy hairs which intertwine like the worms on the bodies of the dead. O death, o death, hairy with worms. I have kisses on my lips. Here, here they are, on thy hands, on thy neck, on thine eyes, thine eyes. I have lips full of kisses, here, here, burning like a fever, sustained to enchant13 thee, kisses, mad kisses, on the ear, the temple, the cheek. Feel my embraces, bend under the effort of my arm, be languid, be languid. I have kisses upon my lips, here, here, mad ones, upon thine eyes, upon thy neck, upon thy brow, upon thy youth, I longed so to love thee, this spring day when there are no more blossoms on the branches which prepare themselves to bear fruit.
TRISTOUSE
Leave me, go away. Those who move each other are happy, but I do not love you. You frighten me. However, do not despair, o poet. Listen, this is my best advice: Go away!
CRONIAMANTAL
Alas14! Alas! To leave again, to wander unto the oceanic limits, through the brush, the evergreen15, in the scum, in the mud, the dust, across the forests, the prairies, the plantations16, and the very happy gardens.
TRISTOUSE
Go away. Go away, far from the antique perfume of my hair, o thou who belongest to me.
And Croniamantal went off without turning his head once; he could be seen for a long time through the branches, and then his voice could be heard growing fainter and fainter as he disappeared from view.
CRONIAMANTAL
Traveller without a stick, pilgrim without staff and poet without a writing pad, I am more powerless than all other men, I own nothing more and I know nothing...
And his voice no longer reached Tristouse Ballerinette who was admiring her image in the pool.
MONKS
The sun declines slowly, and blessing19 thee, O Lord; we are going to sleep in the monastery20 so that the dawn may find us in the forest.
THE FOREST OF MALVERNE
Every day, every day, flights of anguished21 birds see their nests crushed and their eggs broken when the trees sway with shaking branches.
THE BIRDS
It is the happy hour of twilight22 when the girls and boys come to roll on the grass. And all of them have kisses that want to fall like over-ripe fruit or like the egg when it is about to be laid. Do you see them there, do you see them dance, muse23, haunt, chant from dusk to the dawn, his pale sister?
(In the middle of the Cortège)
THE BIRDS
Gay! Gay! the broken eggs
The ready-made omelette cooked on a downy fire
Here! Here!
Take to the right
Turn to the left
Straight ahead
Behind the fallen oak
There and everywhere.
CRONIAMANTAL
(In another age, near the Forest of Malverne and a little before the passage of the monks.)
The winds disperse25 before me, the forests fall away and become a wide track with corpses26 here and there. The travellers meet with too many corpses for some time, with garrulous28 corpses.
THE RED-HAIRED MONK
I don't want to work any more, I want to dream and pray.
The night had come with the moonlight. Croniamantal saw the monks bent30 over the nonchalant bodies of their brothers. Then he heard a little plaint, a feeble cry that died in a last sigh. And slowly they passed in Indian file before Croniamantal, who was hidden behind a clump31 of willows.
THE GLORIDE FOREST
I should love to send this man astray amid the spectres that float among the bubbles. But he flees toward the times that come, and whither he is already arrived.
The banging of distant doors changes into the sound of trains in motion. A large, grassy32 track, barred by trunks and fenced with enormous joined stones. Life commits suicide. A path that people follow. They never tire. Subways where the air is poisoned. Corpses. Voices call Croniamantal. He runs, he runs, he descends33.
* * *
TRISTOUSE
My heart is sad without thee, Croniamantal. I loved thee without knowing it. All is green. All is green above my head and beneath my feet. I have lost him whom I loved. I must search this way and that way, here and yonder. And among them all I shall surely find someone who will please me.
Returned from other times, Croniamantal cried out at sight of Tristouse and the fountain again:
CRONIAMANTAL
Goddess! who art thou? Where is thine eternal form?
TRISTOUSE
Oh, there he is again, handsomer than ever... Listen, o poet. I belong to thee, henceforth.
Without looking at Tristouse, Croniamantal bent over the pool.
CRONIAMANTAL
I love fountains, they are beautiful symbols of immortality36 when they never run dry. This one has never run dry. And I seek a divinity, but I desire her to appear eternal to me. And my fountain has never run dry.
O poet, adorest thou the fountain? O Lord, return my lover to me! Come to me! I know such lovely songs.
CRONIAMANTAL
TRISTOUSE
Very well, then! Sleep with thy cold lover, let her drown thee! But if thou livest, thou belongest to me and thou shalt obey me.
She was gone, and throughout the forest of twittering birds, the fountain flowed and murmured, while there arose the voice of Croniamantal who wept and whose tears mingled39 with the worshipped flood.
CRONIAMANTAL
O fountain! Thou who springest like a staunchless blood. Thou who art cold as marble, but living, transparent40 and fluid. Thou, ever renewed and ever the same. Thou who makest living thy verdant41 banks, I love thee. Thou art my unrivalled goddess. Thou quenchest my thirst. Thou purifiest me. Thou murmurest to me thine eternal song which rocks me to sleep in the evenings.
THE FOUNTAIN
At the bottom of my little bed full of an Orient of gems42, I hear thee with contentment, o poet whom I have enchanted43. I recall Avallon where we might have lived, thou as the King Fisher and I awaiting thee under the apple trees. O islands of apple trees. But I am happy in my precious little bed. These amethysts44 are sweet to my gaze. This lapis-lazuli is more blue than a fair sky. This malachite represents to me a prairie. Sardonyx, onyx, agate45, rock-crystal, you shall scintillate46 tonight, for I will give a feast in honor of my lover. I shall come alone as befits a virgin47. The power of my lover has already been manifested and his gifts are sweet to my soul. He has given me his eyes all in tears, two adorable fountains, sweet tributaries48 of my stream.
CRONIAMANTAL
O fecund49 fountain, thy waters resemble thy hair. Thy flowers are born about thee and we shall love each other always.
Nothing could be heard but the song of birds and the rustling50 of leaves, and at times the plashing of a bird playing in the water.
A dandy appeared in the little wood: It was Paponat the Algerian. He approached the fountain dancing.
CRONIAMANTAL
I know you. You are Paponat who studied in the Orient.
PAPONAT
Himself. O poet of the Occident51, I come to visit you. I have learned of your enchantment52, but I hear that it is not yet too late to converse53 with you. How humid it is here! It is not at all surprising that your voice is harsh, and you will certainly need a medicament to clear it. I approached you dancing. Is there no way of saving you from the situation in which you have placed yourself.
CRONIAMANTAL
Bah! But tell me who taught you to dance.
PAPONAT
The angels themselves were my dancing masters.
CRONIAMANTAL
The good or the bad angels? But no matter. I have had enough of all the dances, save one which the Greeks call kordax.
PAPONAT
You are gay, Croniamantal, we shall be able to amuse ourselves. I am glad I came here. I love gaiety. I am happy!
And Paponat, his bright eyes profoundly whirling, rubbed his hands gleefully.
CRONIAMANTAL
You look like me!
PAPONAT
Not much. I am happy to live, while you die beside the fountain.
CRONIAMANTAL
But the happiness which you proclaim, do you not forget it? and forget mine? You resemble me! The happy man rubs his hands. Smell them. What do they smell like?
PAPONAT
The odour of death.
CRONIAMANTAL
Ha! ha! ha! The happy man has the same odour as death! Rub your hands. What difference between the happy man and the corpse27! I am also happy, although I don't want to rub my hands. Be happy, rub your hands. Be happy! again! Now do you know it, the odour of happiness?
PAPONAT
Farewell. If you make no case for the living, there is no way of talking to you.
And as Paponat disappeared into the night where glittered the innumerable eyes of the celestial54 animals of impalpable flesh, Croniamantal rose suddenly thinking to himself: "Well—enough of the beauties of Nature and of the thoughts she evokes55. I know enough about that for a long time; we had better return to Paris and try to find that exquisite56 little Tristouse who loves me madly."
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收听单词发音
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1
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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3
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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4
limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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5
avidly
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| adv.渴望地，热心地 | |
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6
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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7
ironical
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| adj.讽刺的，冷嘲的 | |
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8
lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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9
svelte
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| adj.（女人）体态苗条的 | |
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10
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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11
sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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12
caress
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| vt./n.爱抚，抚摸 | |
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13
enchant
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| vt.使陶醉，使入迷；使着魔，用妖术迷惑 | |
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14
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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15
evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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16
plantations
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| n.种植园，大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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17
monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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18
monks
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| n.修道士，僧侣( monk的名词复数 ) | |
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19
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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monastery
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| n.修道院，僧院，寺院 | |
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21
anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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22
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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23
muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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24
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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25
disperse
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| vi.使分散；使消失；vt.分散；驱散 | |
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26
corpses
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| n.死尸，尸体( corpse的名词复数 ) | |
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27
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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28
garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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29
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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30
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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31
clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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32
grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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33
descends
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| v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 )；下去；下降；下斜 | |
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34
promenaded
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| v.兜风( promenade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
meditating
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| a.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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36
immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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37
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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38
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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39
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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40
transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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41
verdant
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| adj.翠绿的，青翠的，生疏的，不老练的 | |
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42
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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43
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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44
amethysts
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| n.紫蓝色宝石( amethyst的名词复数 )；紫晶；紫水晶；紫色 | |
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45
agate
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| n.玛瑙 | |
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scintillate
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| v.闪烁火光；放出火花 | |
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47
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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48
tributaries
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| n. 支流 | |
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49
fecund
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| adj.多产的，丰饶的，肥沃的 | |
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50
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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51
occident
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| n.西方；欧美 | |
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52
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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53
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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54
celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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55
evokes
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| 产生，引起，唤起( evoke的第三人称单数 ) | |
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56
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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