Piping down the valleys wild, Piping
songs of pleasure glee, On
a cloud I saw a child And
he laughing said to me: ‘Pipe
a song about a lamb.’ So
I piped with merry cheer; ‘Pipe,
pipe that song again.’ So
I piped; he wept to hear. ‘Drop
thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing
thy songs of happy cheer.’ So
I sung the same again, While
he wept with joy to hear. ‘Piper,
sit thee down and write In
a book that all may read.’ So
he vanished form my sight: And
I plucked a hollow reed, And
I made a rural pen, And
I stained the water clear, And
I wrote my happy songs Every
child may joy to hear. 序诗 威廉·布莱克 我吹着牧笛从荒谷下来, 我吹出欢乐的曲调, 我看见云端上一个小孩, 他笑着对我说道: “吹一支羔羊的歌曲!” 我就快活地吹了起来。 “吹笛人,再吹吹那支曲,” 我再吹,他听着流下泪来。 “放下那笛子,欢乐的笛子, 把你那快乐的歌儿唱一唱;” 我把那支歌唱上一次, 他听着,快活得泪儿汪汪。 “吹笛人,坐下来写成一本诗, 好让大伙儿都能读到。” 他说完就从我眼前消逝, 我拿起一根空心的芦草, 用它做成土气的笔一支, 把它蘸在清清的水里, 写下那些快乐的歌子, 让个个小孩听得欢喜。 |
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