評論
打印
How can my Muse want subject to invent,
我的詩神豈會缺乏詩材與詩思，
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
只要你活著，你自己就是甜美的主題。
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
你踴動于我的詩章，如此美妙，
for every vulgar paper to rehearse?
要描摹你，焉能謬托蹩腳詩人的頹筆？
O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
假如我的詩有聊供垂鑒之處，
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
那也全是由于你的惠顧。
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
正是你點燃了想象的火把，
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
才令無動于衷者為體詩情勃發。
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
你超過你前面的九位老繆斯十倍，
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
你將名列十位詩神榜中而無愧。
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
且讓求助你的詩人詩花怒放，
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
寫出超邁永恒的不朽篇章。
If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
倘這苛求時代容得下我微薄的詩才，
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
我當萬苦不辭只寫詩將你謳歌禮拜。
