白朗宁夫人抒情十四行诗集 8.8分
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Sonnet 01 I thought once how Theocritus had sung by Elizabeth Barrett Browning I thought once how Theocritus had sung Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, Who each one in a gracious hand appears To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, Those of my own life, who by turns had flung A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware, So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair: And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,— 'Guess now who holds thee? '—' Death,' I said. But, there, The silver answer rang,—' Not Death, but Love.' 我想起,当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏: 年复一年,那良辰在殷切的盼望中 翩然降临,各自带一份礼物 分送给世人---年老或是年少。 当我这么想,感叹着诗人的古调, 穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉, 我看见,那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月---- 我自己的年华,把一片片黑影连接着 掠过我的身。紧接着,我就觉察 (我哭了)我背后正有个神秘的黑影 在移动,而且一把揪住了我的发, 往后拉,还有一声吆喝(我只是在挣扎): “这回是谁逮住你?猜!” “死,”我答话。 听哪,那银铃似的回音:“不是死,是爱!”

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