贫民之歌
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2025-04-27更新
最新编辑:AdaElena
阅读:
更新日期:2025-04-27
最新编辑:AdaElena

《贫民之歌》是游戏《天国:拯救2》中的一本书籍,是普通的传说集。
简介
贫民们可以无所顾忌,开心传唱的歌。
On how the poor take no heed and sing merrily to themselves.
内容
凛冬已至,
听着,衣衫褴褛的人们!
日子一天比一天难熬,
我们连件衣服都没搞到!
恶魔的风呼啸而过,
将撒旦的种子撒播!
寒冷的侵袭,
一日胜过一日,
只让人苦恼不已。
大雪纷飞不停,
预言着灾祸无情!
你的袍子褴褛不堪,
裤子破洞,鞋子踩烂。
我们睡过了炎夏,
美梦的帷幕还没落下,
隆冬的雪便将我们冻醒。
灾祸是多么无情,
我们的衣衫是如此八碎七零!
然而贫穷之人们,振作起来,
欢愉与我们同在!
衣裳补丁无数,
转眼白发苍苍!
贫穷之人们,是绝望,
将我们引航,
我们又能奈何?
这条道路永远严苛,
听天由命,等待千载一合。
帽子也是残破,
再无其他选择。
我们昔日将悲哀撒播,
今日就要自食苦果!
割下一捆捆的哀伤,
以及心灵的凄凉。
在波希米亚,
除了去酒馆消愁,
可去的又有何处?
而在那酒馆之中,
他们不予我们酒喝,
哦,我们只剩啜饮忧伤,
独自面对那杯中空荡!
诅咒那小铺,
让它分文不入。
你们又能奈何?
用劳动换解脱,
祈求上帝的眷顾。
星期五,我们这样过活:
河水煮的汤已经齐活,
青草和树皮炖了满锅;
这悲惨的伙食,是时候终止!
鱼会有的,
是来自多瑙还是海里?
这倒不用担心,
鳗鱼便已是精品,
泥鳅更是足够令人欢欣。
星期六,我们会痛饮,
将悲伤的苦水一饮而尽。
星期天早上,
空腹发出阵阵悲鸣。
我们团团围坐,
一个比一个穷酸,
我们坐下来,议论分成,
无物可分,只剩西风。
这便是我们的人生。
做好我们的午饭
就着雾霾用餐,
想象着野味的烤香,
鹿肉只存在于梦乡。
再下锅木头一根,
或是一截木棍,
以热情招待我们的客人。
与其用这种食物款待他们,
还不如将其用来将他们暴揍一顿!
粗茶淡饭已是足够。
要黑布丁配大麦,
还有心爱的卷心菜,
要乳酪和乳清,
还有豆泥作伴,
要罂粟种子做的面食,
熏火腿也不能缺席,
偶尔来一两个南瓜,
炖鹰嘴豆也美味可口!
内容(英文)
Now has winter come,
Hear you, ragged ones!
Evil times are on us
And of clothing none!
Evil winds blow,
Evil is sown!
Blasts of bitter weather,
One upon another,
Bringing nought but bother
Heavy falls the snow,
Foretelling great woe!
Worn threadbare your cloak,
Hose torn and shoes are broke.
We sleep through summer
Heedless in slumber
Of next winter's snows.
How great our woes,
How poor our clothes!
Ye poor, be of good cheer,
Joy is with us here!
Clothes worn away,
Heads turned to grey!
Despair, poor ones,
Shall guide us on,
What can we endeavour?
Our path forever
To seek God's favour.
Caps from our heads torn,
None is left to keep.
What grief we have sown
So shall we yet reap!
Sheaves cut short
And sad of heart.
In Bohemia what to do,
But to the tavern go,
For relief from woe?
And at the alehouse then,
They give us nought to drink,
Oh, what misery to sup
From a dry and empty cup!
Pawn accursed,
with empty purse.
What can you endeavour?
Seek relief from labour,
And pray for God's favour.
On Friday here's our fare:
Soup from water prepared,
Stew of grass and wood;
An end to this bad food!
Fish will there be,
From Danube or sea?
Of that there's little fear,
For even eels are dear,
And loach are far from here.
On Saturday we'll sup,
From grief's bitter cup.
And on Sunday morning,
Empty bellies groaning.
At table together,
One poor as another,
We'll sit and take our share
Of nothing else but air
And let that be our fare.
The cooks for us will brew
From mist and fog a stew,
From darkness roasted game
And venison in dreams,
Stew a log of wood
Or a club for food,
To honour guests and treat them.
Such food they serve to feed them
Would better serve to beat them!
Keep your food so rough.
Black pudding with barley
And cabbage we love,
Buttermilk and whey,
Mashed peas,
Noodles with seeds
Of poppy, smoked ham too,
A pumpkin or two,
And chickpea stew!
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