英語翻譯
1
AS I ponder’d in silence,
Returning upon my poems,considering,lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me,with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty,age,and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice,What singest thou?it said;
Know’st thou not,there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
And that is the theme of War,the fortune of battles,
The making of perfect soldiers?
2
Be it so,then I answer’d,
I too,haughty Shade,also sing war—and a longer and greater one than
any,
Waged in my book with varying fortune—with flight,advance,and
retreat—Victory deferr’d and wavering,
(Yet,methinks,certain,or as good as certain,at the last,)—The
field the world;
For life and death—for the Body,and for the eternal Soul,
Lo!too am come,chanting the chant of battles,
I,above all,promote brave soldiers.
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惠特曼（1819-1892）,美國詩人.生于紐約長島韋斯.其一生的詩作都匯集在《草葉集》中.大部分作品打破了所有的傳統(tǒng)格律,獨創(chuàng)一種自由詩體,內(nèi)容包羅萬象,龐雜松散,集哲學思想及所見所聞所感傾注詩中.是美國19世紀最杰出的詩人.