The Dead Poet 死去的诗人
I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face 昨夜我梦见他,看到了他的脸
All radiant and unshadowed of distress, 容光焕发,没有任何痛苦的阴影
And as of old, in music measureless, 依旧像过去一般,在无尽的音乐之中
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace 我听到了他美妙的声音,寻找着他的痕迹
Under the common thing the hidden grace, 在凡尘中寻找隐藏的优雅
And conjure wonder out of emptiness, 并祈求在虚无中变幻出奇妙
Till mean things put on beauty like a dress 直到平庸的事物披上华丽的衣裳
And all the world was an enchanted place. 全世界都陶醉其中
And then methought outside a fast locked gate 那时我自认为被囚禁在一扇紧锁的门外
I mourned the loss of unrecorded words, 我哀痛那些随风逝去的文字
Forgotten tales and mysteries half said, 被遗忘的和未完结的神秘故事
Wonders that might have been articulate, 原以为可以记录下他的绝妙好辞
And voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds, 以及那些像被刺杀的鸣禽一般的无声的思想
And so I woke and knew that he was dead. 于是我醒了,并意识到他已经死了
( Paris 1901, written about Oscar Wilde a year after his death)
(文章关于Oscar Wilde,写于1901年即Oscar Wilde死后一年,巴黎
I dreamed of him last night, I saw his face 昨夜我梦见他,看到了他的脸
All radiant and unshadowed of distress, 容光焕发,没有任何痛苦的阴影
And as of old, in music measureless, 依旧像过去一般,在无尽的音乐之中
I heard his golden voice and marked him trace 我听到了他美妙的声音,寻找着他的痕迹
Under the common thing the hidden grace, 在凡尘中寻找隐藏的优雅
And conjure wonder out of emptiness, 并祈求在虚无中变幻出奇妙
Till mean things put on beauty like a dress 直到平庸的事物披上华丽的衣裳
And all the world was an enchanted place. 全世界都陶醉其中
And then methought outside a fast locked gate 那时我自认为被囚禁在一扇紧锁的门外
I mourned the loss of unrecorded words, 我哀痛那些随风逝去的文字
Forgotten tales and mysteries half said, 被遗忘的和未完结的神秘故事
Wonders that might have been articulate, 原以为可以记录下他的绝妙好辞
And voiceless thoughts like murdered singing birds, 以及那些像被刺杀的鸣禽一般的无声的思想
And so I woke and knew that he was dead. 于是我醒了,并意识到他已经死了
( Paris 1901, written about Oscar Wilde a year after his death)
(文章关于Oscar Wilde,写于1901年即Oscar Wilde死后一年,巴黎