Once a dream did weave a shade, O’er
my angel-guarded bed, That
an emmet lost its way Where
on grass methought I lay.
Troubled,
wildered and forlorn, Dark,
benighted, travel-worn, Over
many a tangled spray. All
heart-broke I heard her say:
“Oh,
my children, do they cry? Do
they hear their father sigh? Now
they look abroad to see, Now
return and weep for me.”
Pitying,
I dropped a tear; But
I saw a glow-worm near, Who
replied, “What wailing wight Calls
the watchman of the night?”
“I
am set to light the ground, While
the beetle goes his round. Follow
now the beetle’s hum; Little
wanderer, hie thee home.”
梦 威廉·布莱克
有一回幻梦织了一片树荫 罩在我那天使守护的床顶, 我想我准是躺在草地, 看见一迷路的蚂蚁。
困惑、孤独、又苦恼, 黑夜茫茫,也走得疲劳, 多少纵横交错的草蔓上 我听她哭得真心伤。
“我的孩子啊!他们在哭泣? 他们可听见他们天父叹息? 忽儿他们到外面探望, 忽儿又回去,为我而泪水汪汪。”
我流下一滴泪,替她可怜, 但瞧见萤火虫就在身边, 他答道:“是哪个好哭鬼, 把我守夜人唤来?”
“我就要照亮这块地面, 这儿甲虫要漫游一遍; 你且跟着甲虫嗡嗡, 小流浪者,快快转回家中。” |
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