VII
To a Gardener.
(From Underwoods)
Robert Louis Stevenson
Friend, in my mountain-side demesne
My plain-beholding, rosy, green
And linnet-haunted gardenground,
Let still the esculents abound.
Let first the onion flourish there,
Rose among roots, the maiden-fair,
Wine-scented and poetic soul
Of the capacious salad bowl.
Let thyme the mountaineer (to dress
The tinier birds) and wading cress,
The lover of the shallow brook,
From all my plots and borders look
Nor crisp and ruddy radish, nor
Pease-codes for the child's pinafore
Be lacking; nor of salad clan
The last and least that ever ran
About great nature's garden-beds.
Nor thence be missed the speary heads
Of artichoke; nor thence the bean
That gathered innocent and green
Outsavours the belauded pea.
友は、我が、山腹の領分に住む
我が、ごく普通に目にする、赤らんだ、緑色の庭の地面に出没した鶸（ひわ）
食物がずっと豊富であるといい
先ず第一に、そこで玉葱が育つといい
根それぞれに立ち上がったら、刈り上げ祭り、
大きなサラドゥボウル中の
ワインの香り溢れる、詩的精髄
タイムを山へ登る者に（とてもちっぽけな鳥を調理する為に）、
浅瀬を渡ろうとする芥子菜（からしな）を浅い谷川を愛する者に請け負わせるといい
ひたすら我が仕組みとその縁取りの外観故に
それ故ポテトチップでも赤いラディッシュでもない
子供のエプロンを求めるさやえんどうでもない
These tend, I prithee; and for me．
Thy most long-suffering master, bring
In April, when the linnets sing
And the days lengthen more and more,
At sundown to the garden door.
And I, being provided thus.
Shall, with superb asparagus,
A book, a taper, and a cup
Of country wine, divinely sup.
La Solitude, Hyeres.
22:11 2016/01/25月曜日
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