——P. B. Shelley
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory——
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
雪萊
當柔和的歌聲停止,
音符仍震顫于記憶——
當甜美的紫羅蘭凋零,
芳香仍在意識中留存。
玫瑰的花朵一旦枯滅,
葉子堆成戀人的枕席;
思想也如此,當你死亡,
愛情將入睡,留在夢鄉(xiāng)。