上教堂Church Going拉　金Philip Larkin拉金（Philip Larkin，1922-1985），英国上世纪50年代的重要诗人、小说家和评论家。

50年代，他与大学同学组成了以抵制浪漫的感伤与浮夸诗风为主要宗旨的“运动诗派”，反对过分运用修辞和比喻，鄙视诗歌中普遍的说教与预言色彩，在当时产生一定影响。

他主张诗歌返回现实生活，用冷静的头脑，客观的态度去查看现实社会和人生。

他的诗力求在平缓的情绪中，在闲谈式的口吻中准确、简明、务实、具体地表达出诗的意象，往往隐含令人咀嚼的深意。

有一回，我确信里面没什么动静，Once I am sure there's nothing going on便走进去，让大门砰的一声关严实。

I step inside, letting the door thud shut.

又是座教堂：石板，草垫，长凳；Another church: matting, seats, and stone,小本 圣经　；凌乱的花束，摘来是And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut为了做礼拜，已蔫了；有铜器等物For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff置在圣堂的一端；小风琴挺整齐；Up at the holy end; the small neat organ;那紧张的、发霉的、不可忽视的静寂，And a tense, musty, unignorable silence,天晓得醖酿多久了。

没戴帽，我摘除Brewed God knows how long.

Hatless, I take off骑车裤腿夹，尴尬地表示敬意。

My cycle-clips in awkward reverence ,向前走，绕着圣水盂用手摸了摸。

Move forward, run my hand around the font.

站着看上面，那像是新的天花板——From where I stand, the roof looks almost new—打扫过？

修复的？

有人会知道：除了我。

Cleaned, or restored?

Someone would know: I don't.

我登上读经台，翻阅了少许圣诗篇，Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few字大得怕人，唸出了“到此结束”，Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce声音比自己原来想发的大得多。

Here endeth much more loudly than I'd meant.

短促的回声在窃笑。

我回到大门口，The echoes snigger briefly.

Back at the door签了名，捐了爱尔兰六便士硬币，I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence.

回想这地方实在不值得逗留。

Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.

我却停了步：其实我常常停步，Yet stop I did: in fact I often do,每回都像这一次，感到挺困惑，And always end much at a loss like this,想知道该寻求什么；也想弄清楚：Wondering what to look for; wondering, too,当教堂沦落到全无用处的时刻，When churches fall completely out of use该把它转变成什么，可否长期What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep开放几座大教堂，在上锁的柜子里A few cathedrals chronically on show,展出羊皮纸文件，圣餐盒，银盘子；Their parchment, plate and pyx in locked cases,其馀的教堂就交给风雨和羊蹄？

And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep.

该不该躲开它，当作不祥之地？

Shall we avoid them as unlucky places?

或许，天黑后，有可疑的妇人进来，Or, after dark, will dubious women come叫她的孩子们摸一块特别的石头；To make their children touch a particular stone;或是采集治癌的药草；或是在Pick simples for a cancer; or on some知情的某晚来观看死人行走？

Advised night see walking a dead one?

这种或那种力量总会在游戏或Power of some sort or other will go on谜语中起作用，这似乎纯属偶然；In games, in riddles, seemingly at random;但迷信，正如信仰，必须消灭掉，But superstition , like belief, must die,等到不相信也没了，还剩下什么？

And what remains when disbelief has gone?

野草，荒径，荆榛，扶垛，苍昊。

Grass, weedy pavement, brambles , buttress, sky,一周又一周，形状越来越难认，A shape less recognisable each week,用途越来越不明。

我不知道，A purpose more obscure .

I wonder who最后，到了最后，谁会来探寻Will be the last, the very last, to seek教堂的原址？

有人来这里敲一敲、This place for what it was; one of the crew记一笔，什么是十字架圣坛可知道？

That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were?

是哪个贪求古物的、废墟狂恋者？

Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique,或者是个圣诞迷，打算在这里Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff找些牧师的服饰、管风琴和没药？

Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh ?

或者，这个人能否代表我自己，Or will he be my representative,感到烦，不知情，知道鬼魂的沉积Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt已消散，却还要穿过灌木林市郊Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground来到这十字形地方，因为长期地Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt保持着平稳，只能在分离中找到——So long and equably what since is found结婚，生育，死亡和对此的沉思——Only in separation—marriage, and birth,当初正是为了这些而建造And death, and thoughts of these—for which was built这具特殊的外壳的？

我心里不明白This special shell?

For, though I've no idea这个发霉的大仓库有什么价值，What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth,我倒喜欢在这里静静地呆一呆；It pleases me to stand in silence here;它是严肃的大地上严肃的房屋，A serious house on serious earth it is,我们被驱使聚在它交融的空气里，In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,被承认，被当作命运而身穿袍服。

Are recognised, and robed as destinies.

这一点永远绝对不会被废弃，And that much never can be obsolete,因为有的人总会意外地发现Since someone will forever be surprising他自身有一种饥饿，更加严肃，A hunger in himself to be more serious,他会被吸引到这里来，带着饥饿；And gravitating with it to this ground,他听说这是个使人变聪明的地点，Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in,也许只因为四周有许多死者。

If only that so many dead lie round.

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