THE Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, And
clap their hands together, and half close their eyes, For
they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies, With
heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold: I
kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast, And
hear the narrow graves calling my child and me. Desolate
winds that cry over the wandering sea; Desolate
winds that hover in the flaming West; Desolate
winds that beat the doors of Heaven, and beat The doors of Hell and blow there many a whimpering ghost; O
heart the winds have shaken, the unappeasable host Is
comelier than candles at Mother Mary's feet. 无法平息的大军 威廉·巴特勒·叶芝 妲娜的孩子们在纯金制造的摇篮中大笑, 拍合着他们的手掌,半闭着他们的眼睛, 因为他们将驰往北方,当那秃鹰煽动 沉重的白翼和一颗冷却了的心飞起之时: 我亲吻我的孩子,把他贴在我的前胸, 听见那些狭窄的墓穴呼唤我的孩子和我。 那在漫流的大海之上呼啸的凄凉的风; 那在燃烧的西方翱翔的凄凉的风; 那敲击天堂之门,敲击地狱之门, 在那里抽打许多呜咽鬼魂的凄凉的风; 呵,被风撼动了的心,那无法平息的大军 比圣母马利亚脚前的烛光更美丽。 |
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