静默吾思索 回味己所歌
忖度盘桓久 幽灵眼前升
幻化无确凿 相貌尤可憎
年衰力枯竭 精怪故国来
手指不朽诗 恐怖发声问
汝歌所为何 岂非汝不知
唯有一主题 永恒可唱吟
战事及武运 英雄之完成

(待续..)

译自：Whitman's

As I Ponder'd in Silence

  As I ponder'd in silence,
  Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
  A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect,
  Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
  The genius of poets of old lands,
  As to me directing like flame its eyes,
  With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
  And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said,
  Know'st thou not there is but one theme for ever-enduring bards?
  And that is the theme of War, the fortune of battles,
  The making of perfect soldiers.

  Be it so, then I answer'd,
  I too haughty Shade also sing war, and a longer and greater one than any,
  Waged in my book with varying fortune, with flight, advance
      and retreat, victory deferr'd and wavering,
  (Yet methinks certain, or as good as certain, at the last,) the
      field the world,
  For life and death, for the Body and for the eternal Soul,
  Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
  I above all promote brave soldiers.