評論
打印
Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
難道他的詩帆已長驅(qū)直入你的滄溟，
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
先聲奪人俘獲了你價值連城的芳心?
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
可憐我情思萬種卻只能愁鎖腦際，
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
忍叫化育情思的子宮變作荒墳。
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
難道是他的詩心受鬼使神差
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
寫下超凡的詩句，令我落魄傷魂？
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
不，不是他，也不是夜半的精靈
Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
曾助他一臂之力使我的詩思告罄。
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
他和那個伸出援手的和藹幽靈
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
都不能夸口曾星夜用智共舉奇兵，
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
遂使我情場敗北，無奈緘口稱臣，
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
因而我鎮(zhèn)靜自若，不詫也不心驚。
But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
但當(dāng)他的勁作直入你的心門，
Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.
我無門可進(jìn)，軟搭搭沒了精神。
