I feel that this award was not made to me as a man, but to my work -- a life's work in the agony and sweat of the human spirit, not for glory and least of all for profit, but to create out of the materials of the human spirit something which did not exist before. So this award is only mine in trust. 我觉得这个奖项不是颁给我这个人，而是颁给我的作品——我一生的倾注于人类精神痛苦与汗水的工作，不为荣耀，更不为私利，而是要从人类精神的材料中创造出某种前所未有的东西。所以这个奖项只是交由我保管。
It will not be difficult to find a dedication for the money part of it commensurate with the purpose and significance of its origin. But I would like to do the same with the acclaim too, by using this moment as a pinnacle from which I might be listened to by the young men and women already dedicated to the same anguish and travail, among whom is already that one who will some day stand here where I am standing. 为它的金钱部分找到一个与其起源目的和意义相称的奉献方式并不困难。但我也想对这份荣誉做同样的事，通过把此刻作为一个顶峰，让那些已致力于同样痛苦和艰辛的年轻男女能够听到我的声音，在他们之中已有那么一个人，终有一天会站在我今天所站的地方。
Our tragedy today is a general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we can even bear it. There are no longer problems of the spirit. There is only the question: When will I be blown up? Because of this, the young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat. 我们今天的悲剧是一种普遍的、世界性的肉体恐惧，它已持续如此之久以至于我们甚至能承受它。精神的问题已不复存在。唯一的问题是：我何时会被毁灭？正因为如此，今天写作的年轻男女已经忘记了人类内心自我冲突的问题——唯有这种冲突才能产生优秀的作品，因为只有它值得书写，值得为之付出痛苦与汗水。
He must learn them again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for anything but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed -- love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice. 他必须重新学习这些东西。他必须教会自己，所有事物中最卑劣的是恐惧；并且教会自己这一点后，永远将它忘却，在他的工作室中不留任何空间，只保留心灵中古老的真理与真实，那些古老的、普遍的真理——若没有这些真理，任何故事都将是短暂的、注定要消亡的——爱与荣耀、怜悯与骄傲、同情与牺牲。
Until he does so, he labors under a curse. He writes not of love but of lust, of defeats in which nobody loses anything of value, of victories without hope and, worst of all, without pity or compassion. His griefs grieve on no universal bones, leaving no scars. He writes not of the heart but of the glands. 直到他做到这一点，他都在一种诅咒下劳作。他的写作不是关于爱而是关于欲望，关于没有人失去任何有价值之物的失败，关于没有希望的胜利，最糟糕的是，没有怜悯或同情。他的悲伤不触及任何普遍的根基，不留任何伤疤。他的写作不是关于心灵而是关于腺体。
Until he relearns these things, he will write as though he stood among and watched the end of man. I decline to accept the end of man. It is easy enough to say that man is immortal simply because he will endure: that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded from the last worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then there will still be one more sound: that of his puny inexhaustible voice, still talking. 直到他重新学会这些东西，他的写作将仿佛他站在人类中间，目睹了人类的终结。我拒绝接受人类的终结。说人类是不朽的很容易，仅仅因为人类将延续：当末日的最后一声钟响已经敲响并从最后一块在最后一个垂死的红色黄昏中无潮汐悬挂的、无价值的岩石上消逝，即使到那时，仍将有一个声音：他那微弱的、永不枯竭的声音，仍在说话。
I refuse to accept this. I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. 我拒绝接受这一点。我相信人类不仅仅是延续：他将胜利。他是不朽的，不是因为他唯独在所有造物中拥有永不枯竭的声音，而是因为他有灵魂，有一种能够同情、牺牲和忍耐的精神。
The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail. 诗人、作家的职责是书写这些事情。帮助人类延续是他的荣幸，通过提升他的心灵，通过提醒他那些勇气、荣耀、希望与骄傲、同情、怜悯与牺牲——这些一直是他过去的荣耀。诗人的声音不必仅仅是人类的记录，它可以是帮助人类延续和取胜的支柱之一。