شكل گيري زبان انگليسي مدرن و چندميليارد نفري از ابتدا چگونه بوده است؟ از چه زمان و مكاني شروع به تحول وشكل گيري نمود ومبدل به ساختاري شد كه هم اكنون مي شناسيم؟ چگونه آيا اين زبان از جايي تقريبا كوچك بر روي نقشه جهان بسوي موفقيت چشم گيرش گام برداشت؟

با توجه به تاريخ انگلستان، زباني كه تبديل به زبان انگليسي شد با هجوم قبايل جنگجوي آلماني در قرن پنجم و از طريق دريا وارد انگلستان شد. در ابتدا اين قبايل بعنوان سربازو براي كمك به خرابي هاي بجا مانده از امپراتوري روم به انگلستان دعوت شدند و پس ازبازسازي  خرابي ها در همانجا مانده و جا پاي خود را محكم نمودند. مهاجمين در وقايع نامه پيروزمندانه خود پس از ورود در سال 449 به انگلستان نوشتند كه سلت ها يا بريتانيائي ها افرادي "بي ارزش" بودند و " ثروت اين سرزمين" وسوسه انگيز است. اين موضوع ممكن است بعدها نوشته شده باشد اما موضوع به وضوح روشن است: اين سرزمين آمادگي تصرف كردن را داشت. بيد [1]  مورخ انگلو ساكسوني در نامه اي به آتيوس سركنسول روم [2] " فريادها واعتراضات بريتانيائي ها " را گزارش مي دهد. اين اعتراضات توسط آن دسته از بريتانيهائي بود كه ازدست قبايل آلماني رنج كشيده بودند. بريتانيها مي گفتند كه " اين وحشي ها ما را بسمت دريا رانده اند و دريا نيز ما را بسمت اين وحشي ها  مي راند – لذا يا در دريا غرق  مي شو.يم و يا توسط آنها كشته خواهيم شد "

اين تصوير يكي از تصاوير مستدل مي باشد – زبان انگليسي  همچون الهه انتقام از سوي جهنم وارد صحنه شد و توسط مزدوراني نترس و جنگ طلب سوار براسبان امواج و از مسير گذرگاه نهنگ ها به سواحل آرام اين پايگاه نظامي و پادشاهي متروك آورده شد. اين تصويري از نحوه گسترش زبان انگليسي است كه بطور سبوعانه اي بارها و در طي يك ونيم هزار سال منطبق با واقعيت بوده است و اين استثمار غم انگيز در طول زمان يكي از خصوصيات بارز آن است.

داستان ديگري هم هست. افراد ي نيزوجود داشتند كه براي فرار از سرزمين هاي بيروح و كسل كننده خود بعنوان مهاجرين صلح طلب و كشاورزان سخت كوش وجوياي كارسود آوربه اين كشور وارد و در پي يافتن مكاني نسبتا امن در اين مرغزار غني و ثروتمند بودند.  در طي اقامت آنها زبان انگليسي در اين سرزمين پا نهاد و توانمندي زبان انگليسي در تثبيت خود در قلمرو بيگانگان از ديگر خصوصيات مهم اين زبان است.

علاوه بر اين بسياري قبايل و پادشاهي هاي كوچك ديگري هم بودند – در يك مقطع دوازده قبيله- كه در مقاطع زماني مختلف وبا توانمندي هاي متفاوت بوجود آمدند: خصوصا قبايل ساكسون، انگلس و جوت ها [3]  كه بصورت گروهايي پراكنده بوده و با لهجه هايي متفاوت صحبت مي كردند. گرچه اين قبايل كاملا با هم تفاهم داشتند اما همواره خاري در گلوي يكديگر بودند. لذا اين تضاد هم سبب بروز تمايز در لهجه هاي محلي انگلستان و هم سبب آغاز تمايزي چشمگيردر ساير كشورها شد.

اين قبايل صرفا به دليل " فريادها واعتراضات بريتانيائي ها " اختلافات خود را به آساني كنار نگذاشتند و كشمكش آنها با سلت هاي بريتانيا[4] بمدت بيش از يكصد سال ادامه داشت و اين جرو بحث هاي طولاني - با ظهور بزرگترين قهرمان اسطوره اي انگلستان يعني آرتور - به هدف خود نائل آمد. بدين صورت كه زبان سلت ها عليرغم تهديدات وفشارهاي سنگين قبايل آلماني مصون ماند. اين زبان در ولز، كورن وال، شمال اسكاتلند و گي ليك[5] انسجام خود را حفظ نمود. اين موضوع خود نيز بخشي از اين داستان است چرا كه هم تلفات و هم بازماندگاني به همراه داشت كه حاصل خواسته هاي بيش از پيش اين موجود گرسنه- يعني زبان انگليسي-  به موضوعات بيشتر بود.

دويست سيصد سال طول مي كشيد تا انگليسي بعنوان برترين زبان در بين زبانهاي مشابه خود مطرح شود. از ابتدا انگليسي، با استراتژي بقا و اشغال، زباني در آميخته با جنگ بوده است. پس از آنكه اولين قبايل وارد اين كشور شدند معلوم نبود چه گويشي غالب خواهد شد. جداي از هرج و مرج اين سرزمين، كه اغلب افراد آن تا مدت مديدي به زبان سلتي صحبت مي كرده اند، ودر برخي موارد زبان انها مزين به كلمات لاتين بوده، و در آن استقلال قبيله اي و نظارت منطقه اي بشدت تحت كنترل بوده است، زبان انگليسي زمان نياز داشت تا بعنوان يك زبان مشترك به منصه ظهور برسد. زبان انگليسي خوش شانس بوده است ، كه اين خوش شانسي هم ناشي از زيركي آن و هم ناشي از خصيصه هوشمندانه و بيرحمانه آن يعني ظرفيت جذب ديگران بوده است.

اگر شما به فريزلند، استاني سخت كوش در كنار درياي شمال در هلند، برويد اصواتي را خواهيد شنيد كه به گفته كارشناسان نزديك به زبان اجدادي ماست. اين موضوع خود نشانگر يكي از محدوديت هاي چاپ است ! البته در راديو و تلويزيون مي توانيد كلماتي را بشنويد و گوشهايتان نيز كلماتي را بفهمند كه چشمها با توجه به نا آشنا بودن مي بينند. وقتي كه گزارشگر وضع هوا، پيت پولزمن[6]، مي گويد:

'' En as we dan Maart noch even besjoche, Maart hawwe we toch in oantal dajan om de froast en friezen diet it toch sa'n njoggen dagen dat foaral oan'e grun, ''

يا بطور ملموس تر

''trije'' (three) or '' fjour'' (four),

''froast'' (frost) or ''frieze'' (freeze),

''mist'' or ''blau''(blue),

ممكن است بطور ضمني چيزهايي بفهميم، اما هنوز نسبت به آن اكراه داريم. اما زمانيكه همين كلمات را به هنگام تلفظ برروي صفحه ببينيد سريعا براي شما آشنا بنظر مي آيند. در واقع شنيدن دقيق از نظر زماني ما را به عقب باز مي گرداند: گويا يكبار آنجا بوده ايم. اگر ندمن ها انگلستان را اشغال نكرده بودند، نياز نبود ما نيز بگوئيم:

'' Also there's a chance of mist, and then tomorrow quite a bit of sun, blue in the sky''

بلكه بايد مي گفتيم:

'' En fierders, de kais op mist. En dan moarn, en dan mei flink wat sinne, blau yn'e loft en dat betsjut dat.''

زمانيكه در اطراف جزيره ترچلينگ[7] در فريزلند گردش مي كنيد، با كلماتي برخورد مي كنيد كه بسيار به انگليسي از نظر تلفظ و هجاء نزديك هستند و هرگونه شك را از بين مي برند. فري زيين [8] يكي از والدين اصلي زبان انگليسي بود:

''Laam'' (Lamb), ''goes'' (goose), ''buter'' (butter), ''brea'' (bread), ''tsiis'' (cheese)

اين كلماتي هستند كه در فرشگاه ها استفاده مي شوند. كلماتي هم وجود دارند كه در بيرون از منزل كاربرد دارند از جمله:

''see'' (sea), ''stoarm'' (storm), ''boat'' (boat), ''rein'' (rain) and ''snie'' (snow).

و كلماتي همچون ''miel'' (meal) and ''sliepe'' (sleep) در داخل منزل بكار مي روند. حتي جملات كاملي كه شما در خيابان مي شنويد و يا جملاتي كه حتي قادر به ترجمه نمودن يك كلمه از آن نيستيد به گوش شما آشنا مي آيند. احساس شما اين است كه بايد آن را بدانيد و جزئي از خانواده شماست.

اما زبان فري زيين از كجا آمد؟

در سال 1786 سر ويليام جونز[9]، قاضي انگليسي و زبان شناس مبتدي در محل خدمتش در هندوستان، پس از مطا لعاتي دقيق در مورد زبان سانسكريت، كه حداقل از حدود سال 2000 قبل از ميلاد مسيح  در سرودهاي وديك[10] وجود داشته، اينگونه نوشت كه: " هر دو زبان گوتيك و سلتيك ، عليرغم روايات مختلفي كه در مورد آنها وجود دارد، با زبان سانسكريت از يك ريشه هستند. "

نظر وي درست بود.

زمانيكه درختان سدر لبنان و ديگر درختان اصيل بعنوان اولين گياهان از زمين سر برافراشتند، بواسطه اين رويش رو به آسمان كرده و با غرور شروع به فرياد زدن كردند. آنها خود را اشرف  گياهان مي پنداشتند. ناگهان از سوي خداوند ندا رسيد: "من از موجودات نادان و مغرور متنفرم، چرا كه تنها قدرت برتر من هستم و هيچ كس جز من نيست". بنابراين در همان روز خداوند تبر را  كه وسيله اي براي سرنگون كردن درختان است، آفريد. درختان شروع به عجز و لابه كردند و هنگاميكه خداوند علت گريه ايشان راپرسيد در پاسخ گفتند" بارالها ما خود را اشرف مخلوقات مي پنداشتيم و تو تبر آهنين را آفريده اي كه مي تواند ما را ريشه كن كند . خداوند در پاسخ گفت " شما خود براي اين تبر دسته چوبي  مهيا مي كنيد و اگر ياري شما نباشد هيچ تبري قادر به صدمه زدن به شما نخواهد بود.  

THOU still unravish’d bride of quietness,   

  Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, 

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express  

  A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme: 

What leaf-fring’d legend haunts about thy shape         5

  Of deities or mortals, or of both, 

    In Tempe or the dales of Arcady? 

  What men or gods are these? What maidens loth? 

  What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? 

    What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?         10

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard 

  Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; 

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d, 

  Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: 

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave         15

  Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; 

    Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, 

Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve; 

  She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, 

    For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!         20

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed 

  Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu; 

And, happy melodist, unwearied, 

  For ever piping songs for ever new; 

More happy love! more happy, happy love!         25

  For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d, 

    For ever panting, and for ever young; 

All breathing human passion far above, 

  That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d, 

    A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.         30

Who are these coming to the sacrifice? 

  To what green altar, O mysterious priest, 

Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies, 

  And all her silken flanks with garlands drest? 

What little town by river or sea shore,         35

  Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel, 

    Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn? 

And, little town, thy streets for evermore 

  Will silent be; and not a soul to tell  

    Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.         40

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede  

  Of marble men and maidens overwrought, 

With forest branches and the trodden weed; 

  Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought 

As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!         45

  When old age shall this generation waste, 

    Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe 

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, 

  “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,”—that is all 

    Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.         50

Summary

In the first stanza, the speaker stands before an ancient Grecian urn and addresses it. He is preoccupied with its depiction of pictures frozen in time. It is the "still unravish'd bride of quietness," the "foster-child of silence and slow time." He also describes the urn as a "historian" that can tell a story. He wonders about the figures on the side of the urn and asks what legend they depict and from where they come. He looks at a picture that seems to depict a group of men pursuing a group of women and wonders what their story could be: "What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape? / What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?"

 In the second stanza, the speaker looks at another picture on the urn, this time of a young man playing a pipe, lying with his lover beneath a glade of trees. The speaker says that the piper's "unheard" melodies are sweeter than mortal melodies because they are unaffected by time. He tells the youth that, though he can never kiss his lover because he is frozen in time, he should not grieve, because her beauty will never fade. In the third stanza, he looks at the trees surrounding the lovers and feels happy that they will never shed their leaves. He is happy for the piper because his songs will be "for ever new," and happy that the love of the boy and the girl will last forever, unlike mortal love, which lapses into "breathing human passion" and eventually vanishes, leaving behind only a "burning forehead, and a parching tongue."

In the fourth stanza, the speaker examines another picture on the urn, this one of a group of villagers leading a heifer to be sacrificed. He wonders where they are going ("To what green altar, O mysterious priest...") and from where they have come. He imagines their little town, empty of all its citizens, and tells it that its streets will "for evermore" be silent, for those who have left it, frozen on the urn, will never return. In the final stanza, the speaker again addresses the urn itself, saying that it, like Eternity, "doth tease us out of thought." He thinks that when his generation is long dead, the urn will remain, telling future generations its enigmatic lesson: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty." The speaker says that that is the only thing the urn knows and the only thing it needs to know.

Form

"Ode on a Grecian Urn" follows the same ode-stanza structure as the "Ode on Melancholy," though it varies more the rhyme scheme of the last three lines of each stanza. Each of the five stanzas in "Grecian Urn" is ten lines long, metered in a relatively precise iambic pentameter, and divided into a two part rhyme scheme, the last three lines of which are variable. The first seven lines of each stanza follow an ABABCDE rhyme scheme, but the second occurrences of the CDE sounds do not follow the same order. In stanza one, lines seven through ten are rhymed DCE; in stanza two, CED; in stanzas three and four, CDE; and in stanza five, DCE, just as in stanza one. As in other odes (especially "Autumn" and "Melancholy"), the two-part rhyme scheme (the first part made of AB rhymes, the second of CDE rhymes) creates the sense of a two-part thematic structure as well. The first four lines of each stanza roughly define the subject of the stanza, and the last six roughly explicate or develop it. (As in other odes, this is only a general rule, true of some stanzas more than others; stanzas such as the fifth do not connect rhyme scheme and thematic structure closely at all).

Themes

If the "Ode to a Nightingale" portrays Keats's speaker's engagement with the fluid expressiveness of music, the "Ode on a Grecian Urn" portrays his attempt to engage with the static immobility of sculpture. The Grecian urn, passed down through countless centuries to the time of the speaker's viewing, exists outside of time in the human sense--it does not age, it does not die, and indeed it is alien to all such concepts. In the speaker's meditation, this creates an intriguing paradox for the human figures carved into the side of the urn: They are free from time, but they are simultaneously frozen in time. They do not have to confront aging and death (their love is "for ever young"), but neither can they have experience (the youth can never kiss the maiden; the figures in the procession can never return to their homes).

The speaker attempts three times to engage with scenes carved into the urn; each time he asks different questions of it. In the first stanza, he examines the picture of the "mad pursuit" and wonders what actual story lies behind the picture: "What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?" Of course, the urn can never tell him the whos, whats, whens, and wheres of the stories it depicts, and the speaker is forced to abandon this line of questioning.

 In the second and third stanzas, he examines the picture of the piper playing to his lover beneath the trees. Here, the speaker tries to imagine what the experience of the figures on the urn must be like; he tries to identify with them. He is tempted by their escape from temporality and attracted to the eternal newness of the piper's unheard song and the eternally unchanging beauty of his lover. He thinks that their love is "far above" all transient human passion, which, in its sexual expression, inevitably leads to an abatement of intensity--when passion is satisfied, all that remains is a wearied physicality: a sorrowful heart, a "burning forehead," and a "parching tongue." His recollection of these conditions seems to remind the speaker that he is inescapably subject to them, and he abandons his attempt to identify with the figures on the urn.

In the fourth stanza, the speaker attempts to think about the figures on the urn as though they were experiencing human time, imagining that their procession has an origin (the "little town") and a destination (the "green altar"). But all he can think is that the town will forever be deserted: If these people have left their origin, they will never return to it. In this sense he confronts head-on the limits of static art; if it is impossible to learn from the urn the whos and wheres of the "real story" in the first stanza, it is impossible ever to know the origin and the destination of the figures on the urn in the fourth.

It is true that the speaker shows a certain kind of progress in his successive attempts to engage with the urn. His idle curiosity in the first attempt gives way to a more deeply felt identification in the second, and in the third, the speaker leaves his own concerns behind and thinks of the processional purely on its own terms, thinking of the "little town" with a real and generous feeling. But each attempt ultimately ends in failure. The third attempt fails simply because there is nothing more to say--once the speaker confronts the silence and eternal emptiness of the little town, he has reached the limit of static art; on this subject, at least, there is nothing more the urn can tell him.

In the final stanza, the speaker presents the conclusions drawn from his three attempts to engage with the urn. He is overwhelmed by its existence outside of temporal change, with its ability to "tease" him "out of thought / As doth eternity." If human life is a succession of "hungry generations," as the speaker suggests in "Nightingale," the urn is a separate and self-contained world. It can be a "friend to man," as the speaker says, but it cannot be mortal; the kind of aesthetic connection the speaker experiences with the urn is ultimately insufficient to human life.

The final two lines, in which the speaker imagines the urn speaking its message to mankind--"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," have proved among the most difficult to interpret in the Keats canon. After the urn utters the enigmatic phrase "Beauty is truth, truth beauty," no one can say for sure who "speaks" the conclusion, "that is all / Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." It could be the speaker addressing the urn, and it could be the urn addressing mankind. If it is the speaker addressing the urn, then it would seem to indicate his awareness of its limitations: The urn may not need to know anything beyond the equation of beauty and truth, but the complications of human life make it impossible for such a simple and self-contained phrase to express sufficiently anything about necessary human knowledge. If it is the urn addressing mankind, then the phrase has rather the weight of an important lesson, as though beyond all the complications of human life, all human beings need to know on earth is that beauty and truth are one and the same. It is largely a matter of personal interpretation which reading to accept.

John Keats (1795–1821)

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Ballad

I.

O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 

  Alone and palely loitering? 

The sedge has wither’d from the lake, 

  And no birds sing. 

II.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms!         5

  So haggard and so woe-begone? 

The squirrel’s granary is full, 

  And the harvest’s done. 

  III.

I see a lily on thy brow 

  With anguish moist and fever dew,         10

And on thy cheeks a fading rose 

  Fast withereth too. 

  IV.

I met a lady in the meads, 

  Full beautiful—a faery’s child, 

Her hair was long, her foot was light,         15

  And her eyes were wild. 

  V.

I made a garland for her head, 

  And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 

She look’d at me as she did love, 

  And made sweet moan.         20

VI.

I set her on my pacing steed, 

  And nothing else saw all day long, 

For sidelong would she bend, and sing 

  A faery’s song. 

VII.

She found me roots of relish sweet,         25

  And honey wild, and manna dew, 

And sure in language strange she said— 

  “I love thee true.” 

 VIII.

She took me to her elfin grot, 

  And there she wept, and sigh’d fill sore,         30

And there I shut her wild wild eyes 

  With kisses four. 

IX.

And there she lulled me asleep, 

  And there I dream’d—Ah! woe betide! 

The latest dream I ever dream’d          35

  On the cold hill’s side. 

X.

I saw pale kings and princes too, 

  Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; 

They cried—“La Belle Dame sans Merci 

  Hath thee in thrall!”         40