诗歌浪尖上的白鸟(中英)
THE WHITE BIRDS
——by W.B. Yeats
Would that we were，my beloved，white birds on the foam of the sea！
We tire of the flame of the meteor，before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight，hung low on the rim of the sky，
Has awakened in our hearts，my beloved，a sadness that may not die.
亲爱的，但愿我们是浪尖上一双白鸟！
流星尚未陨逝，我们已厌倦了它的闪耀;
天边低悬，晨光里那颗蓝星的幽光，
唤醒了你我心中，一缕不死的忧伤。
A weariness comes from those dreamers，dew-dabbled，the lily and rose;
Ah，dream not of them，my beloved，the flame of
