John Greenleaf Whittier，1807-1892，was born in Haverhill，Mass.，and，with short intervals of absence，he always resided in that vicinity.His parents were Friends or“Quakers，”and he always held to the same faith.He spent his boyhood on a farm，occasionally writing verses for the papers even then.Two years of study in the academy seem to have given him all the special opportunity for education that he ever enjoyed.In 1829 he edited a newspaper in Boston，and the next year assumed a similar position in Hartford.For two years he was a member of the Massachusetts legislature.In 1836 he edited an anti-slavery paper in Philadelphia，and was secretary of the American Anti-Slavery Society.

Mr.Whittier wrote extensively both in prose and verse.During the later years of his life he published several volumes of poems，and contributed frequently to the pages of the “Atlantic Monthly.”An earnest opponent of slavery，some of his poems bearing on that subject are fiery and even bitter；but，in general，their sentiment is gentle，and often pathetic.As a poet，he took rank among those most highly esteemed by his countrymen.“Snow-Bound，”published in 1805，is one of the longest and best of his poems.Several of his shorter pieces are marked by much smoothness and sweetness.

Blessings on thee，little man，

Barefoot boy，with cheek of tan！

With thy turned-up pantaloons，

And thy merry whistled tunes；

With thy red lip，redder still

Kissed by strawberries on the hill；

With the sunshine on thy face，

Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace；

From my heart I give thee joy，—

I was once a barefoot boy！

Prince thou art，—the grown-up man

Only is republican.

Let the million-dollared ride！

Barefoot，trudging，at his side，

Thou hast more than he can buy

In the reach of ear and eye，—

Outward sunshine，inward joy:

Blessings on thee，barefoot boy！

Oh for boyhood's painless play，

Sleep that wakes in laughing day，

Health that mocks the doctor's rules，

Knowledge never learned of schools，

Of the wild bee's morning chase，

Of the wild flower's time and place，

Flight of fowl and habitude

Of the tenants of the wood；

How the tortoise bears his shell，

How the woodchuck digs his cell，

And the ground mole sinks his well

How the robin feeds her young，

How the oriole's nest is hung；

Where the whitest lilies blow，

Where the freshest berries grow，

Where the groundnut trails its vine，

Where the wood grape's clusters shine；

Of the black wasp's cunning way，

Mason of his walls of clay，

And the architectural plans

Of gray hornet artisans！

For，eschewing books and tasks，

Nature answers all he asks；

Hand in hand with her he walks，

Face to face with her he talks，

Part and parcel of her joy，—

Blessings on thee，barefoot boy！

Oh for boyhood's time of June，

Crowding years in one brief moon，

When all things I heard or saw

Me，their master，waited for.

I was rich in flowers and trees，

Humming birds and honeybees；

For my sport the squirrel played，

Plied the snouted mole his spade；

For my taste the blackberry cone

Purpled over hedge and stone；

Laughed the brook for my delight

Through the day and through the night，

Whispering at the garden wall，

Talked with me from fall to fall；

Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond，

Mine the walnut slopes beyond，

Mine，on bending orchard trees，

Apples of Hesperides！

Still，as my horizon grew，

Larger grew my riches too；

All the world I saw or knew

Seemed a complex Chinese toy，

Fashioned for a barefoot boy！

Oh for festal dainties spread，

Like my bowl of milk and bread，—

Pewter spoon and bowl of wood，

On the doorstone，gray and rude！

O'er me，like a regal tent，

Cloudy-ribbed，the sunset bent，

Purple-curtained，fringed with gold，

Looped in many a wind-swung fold；

While for music came the play

Of the pied frog's orchestra；

And to light the noisy choir，

Lit the fly his lamp of fire.

I was monarch: pomp and joy

Waited on the barefoot boy！

Cheerily，then，my little man，

Live and laugh，as boyhood can！

Though the flinty slopes be hard，

Stubble-speared the new-mown sward，

Every morn shall lead thee through

Fresh baptisms of the dew；

Every evening from thy feet

Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:

All too soon these feet must hide

In the prison cells of pride，

Lose the freedom of the sod，

Like a colt's for work be shod，

Made to tread the mills of toil，

Up and down in ceaseless moil:

Happy if their track be found

Never on forbidden ground；

Happy if they sink not in

Quick and treacherous sands of sin.

Ah！that thou shouldst know thy joy

Ere it passes，barefoot boy！

譯文　TRANSLATION

約翰·格林利夫·惠蒂爾（1807—1892）出生于馬薩諸塞的黑弗里爾，并且一生大部分時(shí)間都在故鄉(xiāng)生活。他和他的父母一樣都是教友派或貴格派的信徒。他少年時(shí)代在農(nóng)莊度過，當(dāng)時(shí)就已開始為幾家報(bào)社寫詩(shī)。兩年的學(xué)院教育是他接受的僅有的正規(guī)教育。1829年，他在波士頓任報(bào)社編輯，第二年，他到哈特福德一家報(bào)社任編輯。在接下來的兩年中，他是馬薩諸塞立法委員會(huì)成員。1836年，他在費(fèi)城編輯一份宣揚(yáng)“反奴”思想的報(bào)紙，并擔(dān)任美國(guó)反奴協(xié)會(huì)秘書。

惠蒂爾先生創(chuàng)作了大量詩(shī)歌、散文作品。在他晚年，他出版了幾部詩(shī)集，并經(jīng)常為《大西洋月刊》撰稿?；莸贍柺且晃粺嵴\(chéng)的廢奴主義者，他關(guān)于這一題材的一些詩(shī)作頗為尖銳，甚至尖刻。但整體而言，他詩(shī)中的情感是溫柔感傷的。作為詩(shī)人，他深得美國(guó)民眾愛戴。1865年發(fā)表的《雪國(guó)》一詩(shī)是他篇幅最大、最好的作品之一。他的短詩(shī)則以甜美、流暢著稱。

祝福你，小男子漢，

赤足的孩子，

你有曬得黑黑的小臉兒！

挽著褲管，吹著歡快的口哨，

紅紅的嘴唇被山上的草莓吻得更紅；

而陽(yáng)光就在你臉上！

你那舊了的帽檐那么歡快、優(yōu)美

我要透過它給你源自心底的祝?！?/p>

曾經(jīng)，我也是一個(gè)赤足的孩子！

你是王子，而成年的我則只是共和主義者。

任那百萬富豪從身畔疾馳而過！

趕路的赤足的孩子，耳目所及，

你就有很多他用金錢無法買到的東西：

外在的陽(yáng)光、內(nèi)心的歡樂。

祝福你，赤足的孩子！

啊，無憂無慮的嬉戲，

歡笑著醒來的休憩，

不理會(huì)醫(yī)生告誡的身體，

學(xué)校里從未教過的知識(shí)，

清晨，野蜂如何采蜜？

野花什么時(shí)候在哪里開落？

禽類怎么飛，山民有什么習(xí)俗？

烏龜怎么長(zhǎng)出殼？

土撥鼠怎么挖洞？

鼴鼠怎么沉到井里？

知更鳥怎么喂它的孩子？

黃鶯怎么做窩？

最白的百合在哪里搖曳？

最新鮮的漿果在哪里生？

花生的蔓伸向哪里？

晶瑩的葡萄串在哪里閃耀？

還有黃蜂這筑墻的巨匠

它建巢的規(guī)劃和妙招兒，

避開啃書本和做作業(yè)，

因?yàn)樽匀换卮鹆怂械奶釂枴?/p>

手挽著手，他和自然一起漫步，

面對(duì)面，他和自然一起談天，

分享自然無盡的歡樂——

祝福你，赤足的孩子！

啊，兒時(shí)的六月，

這短暫的時(shí)節(jié)擠進(jìn)多少樂事。

我聽到、看到一切等著我，他們的主人。

那時(shí)，我有那么多的花朵和綠樹，

還有飛鳴的小鳥和蜜蜂，

松鼠是我的玩伴，和我一起玩耍，

長(zhǎng)鼻子的土撥鼠揮動(dòng)著它的鍬。

黑莓把籬笆、石頭和我的快樂染成紫色。

小溪淙淙地流淌著我的歡笑，

整天整夜，在花園的墻邊耳語(yǔ)，

和我聊著、聊著，從秋天到秋天。

我的池塘里小狗魚從沙岸的一邊游到另一邊，

我的山坡上長(zhǎng)滿胡桃林，

我的果樹園里金蘋果壓彎了枝丫。

而隨著我的視野越來越寬廣，

我的財(cái)富也越來越多。

我見識(shí)、了解的世界

就像一個(gè)復(fù)雜的中國(guó)玩偶，

那為赤足的孩子制作的玩偶。

啊，節(jié)日里擺放著那么多美食，

像我的這碗牛奶和面包，——

白镴的湯匙和木碗，

就在灰色、粗糙的階石上。

頭頂?shù)奶炜障窕始业膸づ瘢?/p>

云的拱肋，晚霞的排架

紫色的暮云綴著金色的流蘇，

宛若簾幕在晚風(fēng)中漫卷，

此刻，青蛙的管弦樂隊(duì)開始演奏，

螢火蟲燃起燈為合唱隊(duì)照明。

我是國(guó)王，奢華，愉悅

侍奉著這赤足的孩子。

開心起來，小男子漢，

永遠(yuǎn)像兒時(shí)一樣，快樂生活！

縱使燧石的山坡堅(jiān)硬無比，

新剪過的草像戈矛一樣鋒利，

清晨，依然要領(lǐng)受露珠清新的洗禮，

黃昏，腳下的風(fēng)同樣要親吻溽熱。

很快，這雙腳就被年華桎梏，

失去草地上馳騁的自由，

像要參加勞作的小馬須釘上蹄鐵，

然后，被帶入煩勞的磨坊，

來來回回?zé)o盡的艱辛，

也許，在已忘懷的土地上

再找不到它們的足跡；

也許，它們不會(huì)在原罪

凌厲、背信的流沙中湮滅。

啊，赤足的孩子，體認(rèn)你的快樂吧，

趁它還未遠(yuǎn)逝。