Thomas Hardy - In Time of “The Breaking of Nations” 汉译

Only a slow harrowing clods

In a slow silent walk

With an old horse that stumbles and nods

Half asleep as they stalk.

II

Only thin smoke without flame

From the heaps of couch-grass;

Yet this will go onward the same

Through Dynasties pass.

III

Yonder a maid and her wight

Come whispering by:

What’s annals will cloud into night

Ere their story die.