——W. B. Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep.
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
葉芝
當(dāng)你老了,頭發(fā)白了,經(jīng)常犯困,
總在爐旁打盹兒,請取下這部書,
慢慢讀,追憶往昔溫柔的注目,
回想你目光中那濃重的陰影;
多少人將你青春的優(yōu)雅愛慕,
戀著你的美,不管假意與真心,
但只有一人愛你虔誠的魂靈,
愛你衰老時寫在臉上的愁苦。
低下頭來吧,在通紅的爐柵邊,
悄悄地傾訴,帶著一絲的憂傷,
說說愛神如何逃遁到高山之上,
在那里踱步,隱身于星星中間。
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