世界十大名诗

When You Are Old

by William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

W HEN you are old and gray and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

译文

当你老了

--- 叶芝（爱尔兰）

当你老了，头白了，睡意昏沉，炉火旁打盹，请取下这部诗歌，慢慢读，回想你过去眼神的柔和，回想它们昔日浓重的阴影；

多少人爱你青春欢畅的时辰，

爱慕你的美丽，假意或真心，只有一个人爱你那朝圣者的灵魂，爱你衰老了的脸上痛苦的皱纹；垂下头来，在红光闪耀的炉子旁，凄然地轻轻诉说那爱情的消逝，在头顶的山上它缓缓踱着步子，

在一群星星中间隐藏着脸庞。

Goodbye Again, Cambridge!

by Xu Zhimo

I leave softly, gently,

Exactly as I came.

I wave to the western sky,

Telling it goodbye softly, gently.

The golden willow at the river edge

Is the setting sun‘s bride.

Her quivering reflection

Stays fixed in my mind.

Green grass on the bank

Dances on a watery floor

In bright reflection.

I wish myself a bit of waterweed

Vibrating to the ripple.

Of the River Cam.

That creek in the shade of the great elms Is not a creek but a shattered rainbow,

Printed on the water

And inlaid with duckweed,

It is my lost dream.

Hunting a dream?

Wielding a long punting pole

I get my boat into green water,

Into still greener grass.

In a flood of starlight

On a river of silver and diamond

I sing to my heart‘s content.

But now, no, I cannot sing

With farewell in my heart.

Farewells must be quiet, mute, Even the summer insects are silent,

Knowing I am leaving.

The Cambridge night is soundless.

I leave quietly

As I came quietly.

I am leaving

Without taking so much

As a piece of cloud.

But with a quick jerk of my sleave

I wave goodbye.

再别康桥

--- 徐志摩（中国）

轻轻的我走了，正如我轻轻的来；

我轻轻的招手，作别西天的云彩。

那河畔的金柳，是夕阳中的新娘；

波光里的艳影，在我的心头荡漾。

软泥上的青荇，油油的在水底招摇：

在康河的柔波里，我甘心做一条水草！

那榆荫下的一潭，不是清泉，是天上的虹

揉碎在浮藻间，沉淀着彩虹似的梦。

寻梦？撑一支长篙（gāo），向青草更青处漫溯，满载一船星辉，在星辉斑斓里放歌。

但我不能放歌，悄悄是别离的笙箫；

夏虫也为我沉默，沉默是今晚的康桥！

悄悄的我走了，正如我悄悄的来；

我挥一挥衣袖，不带走一片云彩。

Auf Flügeln des Gesanges Christian Johann Heinrich Heine （1797-1856）；

Auf Flügeln des Gesanges,