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Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
沒有鼓鳴，沒有葬禮哀樂，
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
我們匆忙地，將戰友掩埋，
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
沒有槍聲，送行英雄，
O’er the grave where our hero we buried.
我們悲哀地，告別兄弟。
We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
夜幕嗅出，死亡陰森氣息，
The sods with our bayonets turning,
草地上，刺刀寒光凜凜，
By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light,
慘白月光下，身影憧憧，
And the lantern dimly burning.
送葬馬燈，鬼火忽暗忽明。
No useless coffin inclosed his breast,
長眠茲此，甚至沒有棺冢，
Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him;
亦沒有， 最后送終斂衣；
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
那勇猛武士，似乎戰時休憩，
With his martial cloak around him.
依然披戴，出征的盔甲戰衣。
Few and short were the prayers we said,
幾乎沒有，祈禱或是祝愿，
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
亦沒有，半句悲傷話語；
But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead
默默凝視，死者慘白面孔，
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
不由嗟嘆，是否明天的自己？
We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,
匆忙平整，那塊狹窄墓穴，
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,
從今往后，對手抑或過客，
That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head,
再亦不會，驚擾他的睡眠，
And we far away on the billow!
我們又將迎接，新的血雨腥風。
Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone
鬼神們，輕聲談論摩爾先生，
And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him;
尸骨未寒，卻遭譏笑奚落；
But little he’ll reck, if they’ll let him sleep on
他全然不理，是否自己獲許，
In a grave where a Briton has laid him.
竟徑直躺在，英國佬棺槨上面。
But half of our heavy task was done, when the clock struck the hour for retiring
撤離鐘聲，已經敲響，事業未竟，道路崎嶇漫長，
And we heard the distant random gun that the foe was sullenly firing.
遠處，敵人的稀疏槍聲，黎明將來臨，夜色未央。
Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
哀傷欲絕，我們掩埋英雄，
From the field of his fame, fresh and gory;
他戎馬一生，鮮血浸透大地，
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone,
不見碑石，甚至沒有碑文，
But we left him alone with his glory!
唯有英名，在戰士心底追憶。
