As I came to the edge of the woods,
嗯——當(dāng)我接近那片樹林,我聽到了,
Thrush music -- hark!
畫眉,是畫眉的聲音;
Now if it was dusk outside,
嗯,要說林外現(xiàn)在已夠昏暗,
Inside it was dark.
里面該是漆黑一片;
Too dark in the woods for a bird
不行,不行,這林子里黑咕隆咚,
By sleight of wing
找個好地兒過一夜,
To better its perch for the night,
靠飛,靠飛,嗯——它還真不行,
Though it still could sing.
別看這鳥兒,還能唱兩聲;
The last of the light of the sun
瞧,太陽,太陽,西去的太陽,
That had died in the west
雖說眼看就沒了最后那道光,
Still lived for one song more
可它臨走臨走,還想聽聽畫眉,
In a thrush's breast.
推心置腹,再唱一首;
Far in the pillared dark
最縱深,畫眉發(fā)了個回音,
Thrush music went --
沖著遙遙陰暗,那最縱深——
Almost like a call to come in
像啊,太像啦,口口聲聲,哼,
To the dark and lament.
要躋身,躋身陰郁哀嘆人。
But no, I was out for stars;
不參與,我不進林子不參與,
I would not come in.
倒想呆在外面觀星去,
I meant not even if asked;
就是說,叫我也不去,呵呵,
And I hadn't been.
再說也沒人叫我去 ... ...