双语有声阅读:Because I could not(在线收听) |
Because I could not stop for Death -
He kindly stopped for me -
The Carriage held but just Ourselves -
And Immortality.
We slowly drove - He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility -
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess - in the Ring -
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain -
We passed the Setting Sun -
Or rather - He passed Us -
The Dews drew quivering and chill -
For only Gossamer, my Gown -
My Tippet - only Tulle -
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground -
The Roof was scarcely visible -
The Cornice - in the Ground -
Since then - 'tis Centuries - and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity -
In this poem, death is ironically presented as a well mannered gentleman who would have the patience and time to wait a lady for a quiet and slow carriage drive with the accompany of a chaperon (immorality). Immovability in death is the best evidence of death's withdrawal from life because of the respect given to one's actions during life. The cessation of mundane activities in life are signified by idle hands of the dead in Death.
Then Emily paints the scenes of what they are going past with references to periods of her life: children playing in the playground during recess (youth), the grain fields gazing at them (maturity) and the setting sun (old age). After the sunset, the dew of night makes her realize it has grown cold. She is getting chilly and thereby shivers because she wears only a gossamer gown and a tulle lace cap, hinting this is not an ordinary outing. The poem is about to make a shift away from the pleasant to something more grim when she suddenly realizes that she has stopped being an active viewer, and that she is only now a part of the landscape.
Death leads the poet to her earthly burial location, the last sight spot of the land of the living and the end of this horse-drawn carriage journey. Nevertheless, the graveyard is only the physical destination of the whole wide world, not the post-mortal world in which time flies. A century feels much shorter in length than expected. The future is still ahead there for centuries, while the poet thought at this moment - maybe this carriage was just heading towards eternity. |
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