Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy, In
the flash of gold heels on the hard pavement. Now
see I That
warmth’s the very stuff of poesy. Oh,
God, make small The
old star-eaten blanket of the sky, That
I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.
堤岸 托马斯·厄纳斯特·休姆
曾经,我在提琴的非凡卓越的演奏中狂喜不已, 在闪亮的金色鞋跟敲击马路的清脆声中倾心陶醉。 如今,我终于明白 温暖才是诗歌的真正含义。 噢,上帝,把天空这条古老的、 被星星噬咬的毯子变小吧, 好让我把它裹在身上,温暖舒适地睡觉。 (徐翰林 编译) |