william h.davies
thy beauty haunts me heart and soul,
o thou fair moon,so close and bright;
thy beauty makes me like the child
that cries aloud to own thy light:
the little child that lifts each arm
to press thee to her bosom warm.
though there are birds that sing this night
with thy white beams across their throats,
let my deep silence speak for me
more than for them their sweetest notes:
who worships thee till music fails
is greater than nightingales.
月
你的美麗纏繞了我的心和魂,
你美好的月哦,那樣近,那樣明;
你的美麗使我像個(gè)小孩兒
要捉著你的光,發(fā)出更大的聲音;
小孩舉起每一只胳膊,
要把你捉來(lái)抱的緊緊。
雖然有些鳥(niǎo)兒在夜里吟唱,
由于你的銀光照著它們的頸,
讓我深深的沉默談出我的心
比他們的最美的歌聲更有風(fēng)韻;
對(duì)你的崇敬到了沉默無(wú)聲,
那崇敬是超過(guò)了你的夜鳴鶯。