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发表于 2016-12-4 23:32
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I saw by the early twilight this fair young head, as it was sinking down to darkness—saw this marble arm, as it rose above her head and her treacherous grave, tossing, faltering, rising, clutching, as at some false deceiving hand stretched out from the clouds—saw this marble arm uttering her dying hope, and then uttering her dying despair.
凭着晨曦的微明,我眼见着那秀美的头额沉入深渊——眼见着那只玉臂,伸出在她的头顶与那险恶的坟墓之上,抬啊,摆啊,伸啊,抓啊,仿佛向着云端透出的一只欺诓的手臂呼救——眼见着它呼出最后的希望,接着,最后的绝望。
The head, the diadem, the arm, —these all had sunk; at last over these also the cruel quicksand had closed; and no memorial of the fair young girl remained on earth, except my own solitary tears, and the funeral bells from the desert seas that, rising again more softly, sang a requiem over the grave of the buried child, and over her blighted dawn.
头颅、花冠、玉臂——一概沉沦;临了,那残酷的流沙把这一切都埋在封在地下;这美丽的少女在天地之间没有留下一丝痕迹,只剩得我的一掬天涯清泪而已,而这时,海潮正徐徐涌动,飘过眼前荒漠般水面上的钟声,在这幽骨的茔坟之畔与凄厉的晓天之际,吟哦着一阕悱恻的安魂哀曲。 |
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