William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,And slowly read, and dream of the soft look,
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled,
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
《當(dāng)你老了》
威廉·巴特勒·葉芝
王杰原（Jess Wong）譯
當(dāng)你年老鬢白躺坟，昏沉欲睡胧沫，
坐在爐邊打盹篙挽，取下這本詩(shī)集颠毙，
緩緩讀起，夢(mèng)憶你過去可人的雙眸斑胜，
那脈脈秋水缸托，她們?cè)?jīng)是多么的深情和曼美；
多少人曾愛過和你美好時(shí)光的愉悅逸雹，
多少人又曾或真或假傾慕你的容顏营搅，
但唯有一個(gè)人愛你圣潔高雅的心靈云挟，
愛你那鉛華洗盡，年老色衰的憔悴转质；
你在熾紅壁爐前低頭沉吟园欣，
喃喃細(xì)語，默念曾經(jīng)消逝的愛情休蟹，
而它們卻早已步入連綿峰谷山巒沸枯，
如同愛你的他，將臉龐藏于那漫天繁星赂弓。
