John Keats 约翰·济慈
The poetry of earth is never dead:
大地的歌吟永远不会消亡:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
尽管炎炎烈日晒得小鸟们发晕,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
躲进了清凉的树阴,仍有个嗓音
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
越过重重篱笆,沿新割的草场飞扬;
That is the Grasshopper's - he takes the lead
那是蚱蜢的嗓音,他带头歌唱
In summer luxury -he has never done
盛夏的富丽豪华,他的欢欣
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
永无止境;他要是吟倦兴尽,
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
就到愉快的小草下休憩静躺。
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
大地的歌吟永远也不会消亡:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
在冬天落寞的傍晚,眼看严霜
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
把一切冻入静寂,忽然从炉边
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
扬起蟋蟀的高歌,而炉温渐高,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
听的人慵倦欲睡,迷离惝恍,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.
仿佛听到蚱蜢吟唱在草山。
网友评论