My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light winkling in the dark.

　　我的夢(mèng)幻恰是一團(tuán)螢火——在幽暗中閃爍著靈動(dòng)的流光。

　　The voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless glance, murmurs in these desultory lines.

　　幽徑邊，紫羅蘭的情愫難以招徠那無(wú)心的一瞥，只得吟誦著零亂的詩(shī)句喃喃責(zé)怨。

　　In the drowsy dark caves of the mind dreams build their nest with fragments dropped from day’s caravan.

　　在靜寂陰暗的心之幽穴，夢(mèng)想以晝之旅隊(duì)遺失于大漠的斷章來(lái)營(yíng)筑棲巢。

　　Spring scatters the petals of flowers that are not for the fruits of the future, but for the moment’s whim.

　　春天拋撒著花瓣，不是為來(lái)日的累累碩果，而是因瞬間的妙想遐思。

　　Joy freed from the bond of earth’s slumber rushes into numberless leaves, and dances in the air for a day.

　　歡樂自酣寐之塵世釋逸而出，流涌入芳菲葉海，日日在風(fēng)中搖曳漫舞。

　　My words that are slight may lightly dance upon time’s waves, when my works heavy with import have gone down.

　　我的語(yǔ)言無(wú)足輕重，然而，當(dāng)我的作品因蘊(yùn)意深刻而沉淀時(shí)，它們卻能夠踏著歲月的浮波翩躚舞蹈。

　　Mind’s underground moths grow filmy wings and take a farewell flight in the sunset sky.

　　生著輕薄紗翼的心之蛾，在落日灑金的碧落中漫舞著離愁。

　　The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.

　　蝴蝶細(xì)數(shù)的并非月份，而是瞬間，她的時(shí)光因之而富足。

　　My thoughts, like sparks, ride on winged surprises, carrying a single laughter. The tree gazes in love at its own beautiful shadow which yet it never can grasp.

　　我的思想宛如焰火，純樸地微笑著，騎跨于驚羨之羽翼。

　　樹木脈脈情深地凝注著它美麗的倩影，卻永遠(yuǎn)無(wú)法將它捉住。

　　Let my love, like sunlight, surround you and yet give you illumined freedom.

　　讓我的愛如陽(yáng)光般將你擁抱，并贈(zèng)你璀璨的自由。

　　Days are coloured bubbles that float upon the surface of fathomless night.

　　白晝是色彩繽紛的浮沫，于深邃的夜色中浮蕩。

　　My offerings are too timid to claim your remembrance, and therefore you may remember them.

　　我的祭奉因你的銘記而羞慚，而你卻因此將其銘記。

　　Leave out my name from the gift if it be a burden, but keep my song.

　　假如我的名字成了負(fù)累，就將它從這禮物上拭去吧，但請(qǐng)保留我的詩(shī)歌。

　　April, like a child, writes hieroglyphs on dust with flowers, wipes them away and forgets.

　　四月，像個(gè)頑皮的孩子，用鮮花把難懂的字句寫在泥土上又抹去，隨即忘于腦后。

　　Memory, the priestess, kill the present and offers it heart to the shrine of the dead past.

　　From the solemn gloom of the temple children run out to sit in the dust, God watchs them play and forget the priest.

　　“記憶”這個(gè)女祭司，她損毀了“現(xiàn)在”，用它的心祭奠那已消逝的舊日祭壇。

　　孩子們從那莊嚴(yán)肅穆的廟宇中雀躍而出，坐在塵埃中，上帝看著他們嬉戲，忘記了那位祭司。

　　My mind starts up at some flash on the flow of its thoughts, like a brook at a sudden liquid note of its own that is never repeated.

　　我的心在思想之潮中因剎那之光輝而驀然靈動(dòng)，正如涓涓清溪因其自身突然迸發(fā)的永不重復(fù)的音韻而流轉(zhuǎn)。

　　In the mountain, stillness surges up to explore its own height; in the lake, movement stands still to contemplate its own depth.

　　在山之巔，“靜止”奔涌而出，探索自己的高峰;在湖中，“運(yùn)動(dòng)”安然凝立，思索自己的深邃。

　　The departing night’s one kiss on the closed eyes of morning glows in the star of down.

　　漸漸消隱的長(zhǎng)夜親吻著清晨微閉的雙眸，這吻化做星辰的耀光。

　　Maiden, thy beauty is like a fruit which is yet to mature, tense with an unyielding secret.

　　少女啊，你的美麗宛如漸趨成熟的果實(shí)，緊張地隱藏著倔強(qiáng)的秘密。

　　Sorrow that has lost its memory is like the dumb dark hours that have no bird song, but only the cricket’s chirp.

　　失憶的哀傷猶如喑啞晦澀的時(shí)光，沒有鳥兒的悅鳴，只有蟋蟀唧唧歌唱。

　　Bigotry tries to keep truth safe in its hand with a grip that kill it.

　　Wishing to hearten a timid lamp great night lights all her stars.

　　“偏見”竭力想把真理牢握在手心，誰(shuí)想竟將它捏死了。

　　“愿望”想燃起一盞害羞的燈火，廣袤的夜空就亮起了璀璨繁星。

　　Though he holds in his arms the earthbride, the sky is ever immensely away.

　　雖然天空想把大地新婦擁進(jìn)臂彎，但它依然無(wú)限遙遠(yuǎn)。

　　God seeks comrades and claims love, the devil seeks slaves and claims obedience.

　　上帝尋覓同伴并主張愛，魔鬼尋找奴仆并要求臣服。

　　The soil in return for her service keeps the tree tied to her, the sky asks nothing and leaves it free.

　　泥土把樹木綁縛在身上作為服侍她的回報(bào)，天空卻毫無(wú)所求，任它自由生長(zhǎng)。

　　Jewel like the immortal does not boast of its length of years but of the scintillating point of its moment.