評論
打印
From you have I been absent in the spring,
是在春天的時侯我就離開了你，
When proud-pied April dress'd in all his trim
那時燦爛繽紛的四月披上了彩衣，
Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing,
就連憂郁的土星也含笑翩翩起舞，
That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him.
呵，天下萬物處處都注滿了生機(jī)。
Yet nor the lays of birds nor the sweet smell
然而不管是百花斗彩的撲鼻奇香，
Of different flowers in odour and in hue
也不管是悅耳醉人的鶯歌燕語，
Could make me any summer's story tell,
都不能使我采摘下怒放的花兒，
Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew;
或講述關(guān)于夏天的任何故事。
Nor did I wonder at the lily's white,
我也不企羨百合花的潔白，
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;
也不贊嘆紅玫瑰的色艷香奇。
They were but sweet, but figures of delight,
它們是你的摹品，有雅態(tài)濃香，
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those.
何敢與你這原型相匹，你萬美皆具。
Yet seem'd it winter still, and, you away,
于是我仍身處隆冬，只因你在異地，
As with your shadow I with these did play:
我與這眾花嬉玩，若寄情于你的影子。
