Hope is the thing with feathers

希望是长着羽毛的东西

栖身在灵魂的深处

它哼着无词的小调

没完没了

狂风里听着会越发甜美

而痛苦的必是那风暴

那或许会让小鸟感到尴尬

它曾留住多少温馨

我曾在极寒的地方聆听

也曾在陌生的海上遇到

不论环境多么极端

它却从未向我索要丝毫 ------------------------------------------------------------ Hope is the thing with feathers                        

By E Dickinson

"Hope" is the thing with feathers 　　

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words 

And never stops -- at all

And sweetest in the Gale is heard

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little Bird 　　

That kept so many warm --　　

I've heard it in the chilliest land --　　

And on the strangest Sea --　　

Yet, never, in Extremity, 　　

It asked a crumb -- of Me.