诗歌里有一种美，是用简洁引领精神的长河深流，是用文字触碰灵魂的艺术。每一种语言都有其自带的魅力，英式小诗细腻优雅的气质，引人在放松中回味。
紧张繁忙的工作生活里，愿诗歌带给各位一刻平静与舒缓，并在静默中学会由衷的珍惜。
Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
是否我们还能掘出这埋藏已久的珍宝，
Were it worth the pleasure,
他的快乐是否值得，
We never could learn love's song,
We are parted too long
我们永远无法学会爱之歌，因为我们已分开太久。
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead,
是否这已然消逝的激情往昔还能召回他的亡者，
Could we live it all over again,
Were it worth the pain!
我们是否能重新经历，那些痛苦是否值得，
I remember we used to meet
By an ivied seat,
我记得我们常常相见
在攀著长春藤的座椅，
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird;
你婉转颂唱每个美丽的字句
如小鸟般圆润清丽；
And your voice had a quaver in it,
Just like a linnet,
而你的声音中有一种颤音，
一如朱雀，
And shook, as the blackbird's throat
With its last big note;
并且抖动，如山鸟的喉咙
发出它最后的洪亮音符；
And your eyes, they were green and grey
而你的眼睛，绿色和灰色
Like an April day,
犹如四月天，
But lit into amethyst
When I stooped and kissed;
当我弯下腰亲吻时
却发亮如紫水晶；
And your mouth, it would never smile
For a long, long while,
而你的嘴，并不微笑
持续很长，很久一阵子，
Then it rippled all over with laughter
Five minutes after.
然后笑声才如涟漪向四处波动——
在五分钟之后。
You were always afraid of a shower,
Just like a flower:
你一向畏怯骤雨，
一如花朵：
I remember you started and ran
When the rain began.
我记得当雨开始下起
你惊跳起身并奔跑。
I remember I never could catch you,
For no one could match you,
我记得我永远追不上你，
也无人能够与你相比，
You had wonderful, luminous, fleet,
Little wings to your feet.
因为你有美丽、闪亮、敏捷的
小巧翅翼——在你的双足。
I remember your hair - did I tie it?
For it always ran riot -
我记得你的发——我是否将它束起？
因为它总是躁乱奔放——
Like a tangled sunbeam of gold:
These things are old.
有如交-缠的金色阳光，
这些都是过去的事了。
I remember so well the room,
And the lilac bloom
That beat at the dripping pane
In the warm June rain;
我记得如此清楚那房间，
那紫丁香花朵
拍打在滴水的窗玻璃上
在温暖的六月雨中；
And the colour of your gown,
It was amber-brown,
And two yellow satin bows
From the shoulders rose.
而你长袍的颜色，
犹如琥珀般金黄，
两朵黄缎蝴蝶结
在你的双肩翩然伫立。
And the handkerchief of French lace
Which you held to your face-
Had a small tear left a stain?
Or was it the rain?
你握著镶著法式蕾丝的手帕
移向你的脸颊——
是一小颗泪珠留下的斑痕？
还是雨点？
On your hand as it waved adieu
There were veins of blue;
在你挥别的手上
有著蓝色的血管；
In your voice as it said good-bye
Was a petulant cry,
在你道别的声音中
有著焦躁的呼喊，
"You have only wasted your life."
(Ah, that was the knife!)
“你不过是在浪费生命。”
（啊，就是这把刀！）
When I rushed through the garden gate
It was all too late.
当我冲过花园的门槛
一切都已太晚。
Could we live it over again,
Were it worth the pain,
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead!
是否我们能重新经历，
那痛苦是否值得？
是否这已然消逝的激情往昔
还能召回它的亡者！
Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know,
Poets' hearts break so.
也罢，若我必须心碎，
亲爱的爱人，因为你的缘故，
让它在音乐中破碎，我知道，
诗人们的心都是如此碎裂。
But strange that I was not told
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God's heaven and hell.
然而奇怪的是没有人告诉我，
在脑中这乳白小室里，
竟可以同时拥有
上帝的天堂与地狱。
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