雪花

离开天的怀抱
走出她摇摆的云叠衣衫，
飘过棕色赤裸的林地，
飞越被遗弃的丰收田，
缄默，柔弱，徐缓的
飘洒着雪片。

恰如我们浑浊的幻想
以美好的表达突然出现，
就象是那烦乱的心绪
使苍白的面容局促不安，
这苦恼的天显现出
忧伤的情感。

这是空气的诗句，
无声的音节慢慢记载成篇；
这是失望的秘密，
久储于它多云的胸间，
此刻悄声泄露给了
森林和农田。

Snow-Flakes
OUT of the bosom of the Air
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.

箭与歌

我朝空中射支箭，
落地后不知去向；
疾速飞离快如光，
视力不能跟得上。

我朝空中唱首歌，
落地后不知去向；
视力敏锐犀利人，
跟得上歌声飞扬？

很久以后橡树上，
我箭完好无损伤；
而歌从头到结尾，
在友人心头回荡。

The Arrow And The Song

I shot an arrow in the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

----By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in 1863 (美 1807-1882)