~乔治·梅瑞狄斯
它们不会唱歌,干枯的莎草,
然而它们不停地歌唱。
就在我的胸中,它们歌唱,
正当我信步而过。
在我的胸中它们触动一根细弦,
它们唤醒一声叹息。
不过是干枯的莎草沙沙作响,
却在我的深处,它们歌唱。
(桔子 译)
原文:
Song
in the Songless
~George Meredith
They have no song, the sedges dry,
And still they sing.
It is within my breast they sing,
As I pass by.
Within my breast they touch a string,
They wake a sigh.
There is but sound of sedges dry;
In me they sing.
Viktor Vasnetsov, Sedge