Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty’s orient deep, These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither do stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. 当六月过去,玫瑰凋残, 别再问我,爱神在哪里。 你的美丽是那么灿烂, 这些花儿,就在他的根部熟睡。 别再问我,是否漂泊 白天金色的阳光; 那是纯洁爱情的天空 那些粉末可以装饰你的秀发。 Ask me no more whither doth haste The nightingale, when May is past; For in your sweet dividing throat She winters, and keeps warm her note. Ask me no more where those stars light, That downwards fall in dead of night; For in your eyes they sit, and there Fixed become, as in their sphere. 当五月悄然离去, 别再问我,夜莺在哪里 你那甜蜜的歌喉, 在冬季,温暖着她的音符。 别再问我,明亮的繁星, 夜晚落在哪里; 他们就在你的眼中, 固定在那里,犹如在他们的家。 |
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