Ophelia - Arthur Rimbaud
Ophelia-Terjemahan dari bahasa Inggris
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| Foto : Lukisan John Averett Millais - Ophelia |
I
Di arus tenang gelap tempat gemintang terlelap
Ophelia putih mengapung seperti lili nan suci
Beringsut mengambang, berbaring di tengkuluk panjang
–Di hutan, anjing menyalak, pemuda teriak
Selama seribu tahun atau lebih, hantu putih sedih
Ophelia telah susuri sungai panjang dan hitam.
Seribu tahun atau lebih lama, nyanyian manis
Angin mengecup dadanya dan seperti bunga merekah
Tengkuluk panjangnya hanyut-lembut bersama air.
Di bahunya pohon dedalu gigil meratap,
Di atas luas paras mimpinya mendadak ciut.
Di sekelilingnya, air berjejalan, lili mendesah;
Pada Pohon Alder yang berkelesa, terkadang dia mengganggu
Sebuah sarang, di sana sayap halus mengepak cepat
—Musik mistis jatuh dari bintang keemasan.
II
O Ophelia pucat, cantik seperti salju!
Duh, bocah malang, engkau gugur di hilir
—Sebab angin gunung Norwegia
Merintihkan pesan dari kebebasan nan jalang.
Sehela napas yang melilit rambut lebatmu
Bisikkan suara asing pada pikiran kosongmu,
Hatimu menyimak lagu alam
Di pepohonan yang berkeluh kesah dan di malam sesal.
Gemuruh laut yang mengamuk, memekak-sungguh,
Meledakkan dada mudamu, teramat lembut, begitu manusiawi.
Di April pagi, sepucat tampan
Pangeran gila bersimpuh padamu, tanpa mengucap sesuatu apa.
Angkasa, Cinta, Kebebasan! Mimpi gerangan, bocah malang!
Kau melebur pada tubuhnya, kau salju dalam apinya,
Bubung imajinasi membuatmu diam seribu bahasa
—Dan kengerian dahsyat sinari liar mata birumu!
III
—Sang Penyair berkata ketika bintang terbit
Kau datang mencari bunga yang ‘kan kau petik;
Dia berkata telah menyaksi, Ophelia berbaring di tengkuluk panjangya,
Ophelia putih, mengambang, laksana bunga lili.
-Arthur Rimbaud
Diterjemahkan dari :
Ophelia
I
In the calm black stream where stars sleep,
White Ophelia floats like a great lily,
Very slowly floats, lying in long veils...
–Up in the woods, dogs bark, men shout.
For a thousand years or more, sad white phantom,
Ophelia has moved down the long black river.
A thousand years or more her sweet song
Of madness has charmed the evening air.
The wind kisses her breasts and like a flower opens
Her long veils gently moving with the water.
On her shoulder willows weep and shiver,
Over her wide dreaming face rushes lean.
Around her, jostling water-lilies sigh;
In a drowsy alder, when sometimes she disturbs
A nest, there’s a quick flurry of wings
––Mysterious music tumbles from the golden stars.
II
O pale Ophelia, beautiful as snow!
Yes, poor child, downstream you died.
––Because great Norway mountain winds
Moaned their message of harsh freedom.
A breath that twisted your heavy hair
Brought strange sounds to your absent thoughts,
Your heart heard Nature’s song
In the trees’ lament and the sigh of night.
The shout of mad seas, huge growl,
Burst your young breast, too soft, too human.
One April morning, a pale, handsome, strange
Demented prince sat with you, saying nothing.
Sky, Love, Freedom! What dreams, poor child!
You melted into him, snow in his fire,
Your great visions* made you speechless
––And terrible Infinity lit your wild blue eyes!
III
––The Poet says that when the stars come out
You come looking for flowers you picked;
He says he’s seen, lying in her long veils,
White Ophelia, like some great lily, float by.
English Translation by Martin Sorrell
-Arthur Rimbaud
