A Cry from an Indian Wife
My forest brave, my Red-skin love, farewell;
我的森林武士，我红皮肤的爱人，再会；
We may not meet to-morrow; who can tell
或许今日便是永别，谁能知晓
What mighty ills befall our little band,
我们的小部落会遭受何种灾厄，
Or what you’ll suffer from the white man’s hand?
你又会被白人怎样折磨？
Here is your knife! I thought ’twas sheathed for aye.
拿着，你的刀！我曾以为它再无出鞘之日。
No roaming bison calls for it to-day;
如今不再有游荡的野牛将它召唤；
No hide of prairie cattle will it maim;
也没有草原牛的毛皮供它切割；
The plains are bare, it seeks a nobler game:
平原荒芜，它在渴求更高贵的猎物：
’Twill drink the life-blood of a soldier host.
它将饮下士兵们的鲜血。
Go; rise and strike, no matter what the cost.
去吧；起来斗争，不计代价。
Yet stay. Revolt not at the Union Jack,
然而，再留一会吧。不要在米字旗下抵抗，
Nor raise Thy hand against this stripling pack
别对这些年轻的白人战士兵戎相向，
Of white-faced warriors, marching West to quell
尽管他们正西进镇压
Our fallen tribe that rises to rebel.
我们一度陷落的部族中爆发的叛乱。
They all are young and beautiful and good;
他们年轻、美好、心地善良；
Curse to the war that drinks their harmless blood.
诅咒这战争，它吸取他们无辜的鲜血。
Curse to the fate that brought them from the East
诅咒这命运，它将他们从东方带来
To be our chiefs—to make our nation least
并统领我们——让我们的部族成为
That breathes the air of this vast continent.
这片广阔大陆上呼吸与共的国家中最弱小的一个。
Still their new rule and council is well meant.
他们的新规充满善意，政府抱怀美德。
They but forget we Indians owned the land
但他们忘了，这片横接大洋的土地
From ocean unto ocean; that they stand
是我们印第安人的财产；他们脚下踏着的土壤
Upon a soil that centuries agone
在几个世纪以前是我们的独立王国，
Was our sole kingdom and our right alone.
我们的正当所有。
They never think how they would feel to-day,
这种感受他们永远不会明白：
If some great nation came from far away,
一个大国远征至此，
Wresting their country from their hapless braves,
从不幸的勇士手中夺去他们的国家，
Giving what they gave us—but wars and graves.
并带来战争与坟墓——那正是他们赠予我们的事物。
Then go and strike for liberty and life,
那么，去吧，为了自由和生命而斗争，
And bring back honour to your Indian wife.
为你的印第安妻子带来荣光。
Your wife? Ah, what of that, who cares for me?
你的妻子？啊，那又怎样，谁会在乎？
Who pities my poor love and agony?
谁会同情我可怜的爱与痛？
What white-robed priest prays for your safety here,
哪里会有牧师身着白袍祝愿你平安无恙，
As prayer is said for every volunteer
为每一位志愿入伍的加拿大士兵念的祷词
That swells the ranks that Canada sends out?
又何曾为你朗诵？
Who prays for victory for the Indian scout?
谁会为印第安士兵的胜利祈祷？
Who prays for our poor nation lying low?
谁会为日薄西山的可怜部族祈福？
None—therefore take your tomahawk and go.
没有人——所以出发吧，带上你的战斧。
My heart may break and burn into its core,
我的内心焦灼破碎，
But I am strong to bid you go to war.
但我仍然足够坚强，可以将你送上战场。
Yet stay, my heart is not the only one
然而，再留一会吧，不只有我的心
That grieves the loss of husband and of son;
会因为失去丈夫和儿子而悲伤；
Think of the mothers o’er the inland seas;
想想那些远在内海的母亲们；
Think of the pale-faced maiden on her knees;
想想那些双膝跪地、面色苍白的少女；
One pleads her God to guard some sweet-faced child
一边正乞求上帝护佑自己可爱的孩子，
That marches on toward the North-West wild.
他正往西北的荒野挺进。
The other prays to shield her love from harm,
另一边正祈祷自己的爱人免遭戕害，
To strengthen his young, proud uplifted arm.
祈祷他自豪地高举着的年轻手臂能够更加强壮。
Ah, how her white face quivers thus to think,
啊，她白皮肤的面庞在颤抖，
Your tomahawk his life’s best blood will drink.
想到你的战斧将饮下他生命中最鲜活的血液。
She never thinks of my wild aching breast,
但她不会想到我的胸膛正饱含痛苦，
Nor prays for your dark face and eagle crest
也不会祝福你那黝黑的脸和鹰羽头冠。
Endangered by a thousand rifle balls,
枪林弹雨中，不知生死存亡，
My heart the target if my warrior falls.
若你倒下，被击中的也是我的心脏。
O! coward self I hesitate no more;
哦！我是这样懦弱，但我已不再犹豫；
Go forth, and win the glories of the war.
前进吧，赢得战争的荣耀。
Go forth, nor bend to greed of white men’s hands,
前进吧，不要屈从于白人的贪婪魔爪，
By right, by birth we Indians own these lands,
自古以来我们印第安人就是这片土地的主人，
Though starved, crushed, plundered, lies our nation low…
尽管饿殍遍地、满目疮痍、饱受劫掠，我们的部族气息奄奄……
Perhaps the white man’s God has willed it so.
或许这是白人上帝的意愿。
