I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees Hum in the lime tree flowers; and put away The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness That empty the heart. I have forgot awhile Tara uprooted, and new commonness Upon the throne and crying about the streets And hanging its paper flowers from post to post, Because it is alone of all things happy. I am contented for I know that Quiet Wanders laughing and eating her wild heart Among pigeons and bees, while that Great Archer, Who but awaits His hour to shoot, still hangs A cloudy quiver over Parc-na-Lee. August, 1902. 在那七片树林里 威廉·巴特勒·叶芝 我听见那七片树林中的野鸽 造出隐隐雷声,花园里的蜜蜂 在菩提树花丛中低吟;抛开了 使心变得空虚的徒劳的哭喊 和旧日的苦痛。我暂时忘却了 被灭绝的塔拉,以及在大街上 四处叫喊,把它的纸花悬挂到 一根根柱子上的高踞王位的新凡庸, 因为这是万事之中唯一令人快乐的。 我心满意足,因为我知道静女 在鸽子和蜜蜂中间漫游,大笑着, 吞食着她的狂野的心,而那只等 他的发射时刻到来的伟大射手仍然 把一只乌云般的箭囊悬在派克纳利上空。 1902年8月 |
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