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2#
发表于 2017-8-13 22:15
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Love, strong as Death, is dead.
Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
A green turf at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Whereon we may sit
In the quiet evening hours.
He was born in the Spring,
And died before the harvesting:
On the last warm summer day
He left us; he would not stay
For Autumn twilight cold and grey.
Sit we by his grave, and sing
He is gone away.
To few chords and sad and low
Sing we so:
Be our eyes fixed on the grass
Shadow-veiled as the years pass,
While we think of all that was
In the long ago.
终结
---by 克里斯蒂娜•罗塞蒂
爱,如死一般顽强,也已经死亡,
来吧,在凋谢的百花丛中,
让我们给它寻找一个安息的地方。
在它的头旁栽上青草,
再放一块石头在它的脚边,
这样,我们可以坐在上面,
在黄昏寂静的时光。
它诞生在春天,
却夭折在秋收以前;
在一个温暖的夏天,
它离我们而去,不再回来!
它害怕秋天的黄昏,
又冷又灰暗。
我们坐在它的墓旁,
叹息它的死亡。
轻轻地拨动琴弦,
我们悲哀地低声歌唱:
“我们的目光倾注在青青的草上,
当岁月流逝,它们也披满了忧伤;
眼前的一切恍如昨日,
可是,那已是很久、很久以前!”
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