1<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> My soul is dark – Oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o’er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again: If in these eyes there lurk a tear, ‘Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain. 2 But bid the strain be wild and deep, Nor let thy notes of joy be first: I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, Or else this heavy heart will burst; For it hath been by sorrow nursed, And ached in sleepless silence long; And now ’tis doomed to know the worst, And break at once – or yield to song. 我的心灵是阴沉的 一 我的心灵是阴沉的——噢,快一点 弹起那我还能忍着听的竖琴, 那缠绵的声音撩人心弦, 让你温柔的指头弹给我听。 假如这颗心还把希望藏住, 这乐音会使它痴迷得诉出衷情: 假如这眼睛里还隐蓄着泪珠, 它会流出来,不再把我的头灼痛。 二 但求你的乐声粗犷而真挚, 也不要先弹出你欢乐的音阶, 告诉你,歌手呵,我必须哭泣, 不然,这沉重的心就要爆裂; 因为它曾经为忧伤所哺育, 又在失眠的静寂里痛得久长; 如今它就要受到最痛的一击, 使它立刻碎裂——或者皈依歌唱。 |
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