“The Tiger” 
老虎

by William Blake (1757-1827)

文：威廉· 布雷客

Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
老虎，老虎，烧灼光明

In the forests of the night;
在这个夜晚的这些树林；
What immortal hand or eye,
何种不朽的手，或眼睛，

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
能创造出你可怕的匀称？
In what distant deeps or skies.
在多么远的深渊或天堂，

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
点燃了你的眼睛的火光？

On what wings dare he aspire?
在何羽翼上，他敢渴念？

What the hand, dare seize the fire?
是何圣手，敢抓这火焰？
And what shoulder, and what art,
并何种肩膀，又何巧术，

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
可以扭转你心脏的筋骨？

And when thy heart began to beat,
又在何时你的心开始跃跳，

What dread hand? and what dread feet?
何等可畏的手？何等可畏的脚？
What the hammer? what the chain,
什么样的锤子？什么样的锁链，

In what furnace was thy brain?
你的大脑在什么样的炉中试炼？

What the anvil? what dread grasp,
何种铁砧？何等可畏的掌控，
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
敢于握紧它的死亡的惊恐！
When the stars threw down their spears
当那星星扔下他们的长枪
And water’d heaven with their tears:
并用他们的眼泪浇灌天堂：

Did he smile his work to see?
他是否看着他的作品微笑？

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
那造羔羊的是否也将你创造？

Tiger Tiger, burning bright,
老虎，老虎，烧灼光明

In the forests of the night;
在这个夜晚的这些树林；
What immortal hand or eye,
哪种不朽的手，或眼睛，

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
能创造出你可怕的匀称？