evelyn scott 冬月
伊吾琳·司科特
a little white thistle moon
blown over the cold crags and fens:
a little white thistle moon
blown across the frozen heather.
初月如银沟，
吹过冰岩沼；
如勾初月白，
吹渡寒郊草。
---------
the moon
william h.davies 月
威廉·h·戴维士
thy beauty haunts me heart and soul,
o thou fair moon,so close and bright;
thy beauty makes me like the child
that cries aloud to own thy light:
the little child that lifts each arm
to press thee to her bosom warm.
though there are birds that sing this night
with thy white beams across their throats,
let my deep silence speak for me
more than for them their sweetest notes:
who worships thee till music fails
is greater than nightingales.
你的美丽缠绕了我的心和魂，
你美好的月哦，那样近，那样明；
你的美丽使我像个小孩儿
要捉着你的光，发出更大的声音；
小孩举起每一只胳膊，
要把你捉来抱的紧紧。
虽然有些鸟儿在夜里吟唱，
由于你的银光照着它们的颈，
让我深深的沉默谈出我的心
比他们的最美的歌声更有风韵；
对你的崇敬到了沉默无声，
那崇敬是超过了你的夜鸣莺。
evelyn scott 冬月
伊吾琳·司科特
a little white thistle moon
blown over the cold crags and fens:
a little white thistle moon
blown across the frozen heather.
初月如银沟，
吹过冰岩沼；
如勾初月白，
吹渡寒郊草。
---------
the moon
william h.davies 月
威廉·h·戴维士
thy beauty haunts me heart and soul,
o thou fair moon,so close and bright;
thy beauty makes me like the child
that cries aloud to own thy light:
the little child that lifts each arm
to press thee to her bosom warm.
though there are birds that sing this night
with thy white beams across their throats,
let my deep silence speak for me
more than for them their sweetest notes:
who worships thee till music fails
is greater than nightingales.
你的美丽缠绕了我的心和魂，
你美好的月哦，那样近，那样明；
你的美丽使我像个小孩儿
要捉着你的光，发出更大的声音；
小孩举起每一只胳膊，
要把你捉来抱的紧紧。
虽然有些鸟儿在夜里吟唱，
由于你的银光照着它们的颈，
让我深深的沉默谈出我的心
比他们的最美的歌声更有风韵；
对你的崇敬到了沉默无声，
那崇敬是超过了你的夜鸣莺。