— William Butler Yeats ——威廉·巴特勒·叶芝

When you are old and grey and full of sleep；

当你老了，头发花白，睡意沉沉，

And nodding by the fire，take down this book,

倦坐在炉边，取下这本书来，

And slowly read,and dream of the soft look

慢慢读着，追梦当年的眼神

Your eyes had once,and of their shadows deep;

你那柔美的神采与深幽的晕影。

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

多少人爱过你昙花一现的身影，

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

爱过你的美貌，以虚伪或真情，

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you

惟独一人曾爱你那朝圣者的心，

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

爱你哀戚的脸上岁月的留痕。

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

在炉罩边低眉弯腰，

Murmur,a little sadly,how Love fled

忧戚沉思，喃喃而语，

And paced upon the mountains overhead

爱情是怎样逝去，又怎样步上群山，

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

怎样在繁星之间藏住了脸。