[I thought once how Theocritus had sung 我想起,当年希腊的诗人曾经歌咏] 他的语调里带出了怅然
[Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years, 年复一年,那良辰在殷切的盼望中 Who each one in a gracious hand appears 翩然降临,各自带一份礼物 To bear a gift for mortals, old or young: 分送给世人--年老或是年少。] 瑟兰迪尔有些飘忽地望向一无所知的她,眼里的情感如同清浅的池水,静水微澜。
[And, as I mused it in his antique tongue, 当我这么想,感叹着诗人的古调, I saw, in gradual vision through my tears, 穿过我泪眼所逐渐展开的幻觉, The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years, 我看见,那欢乐的岁月、哀伤的岁月-- Those of my own life, who by turns had flung 我自己的年华,把一片片黑影接连着 A shadow across me. 掠过我的身。] 阿黛尔就看到他怔然地将书本递给了她,然后突然像是回过神来露出了一个没有情绪的表情。
[Straightway I was \'ware, 紧接着,我就觉察 So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move (我哭了)我背后正有个神秘的黑影 Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair; 在移动,而且一把揪住了我的发 And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, -- 往后拉,还有一声吆喝(我只是在挣扎): `Guess now who holds thee\' -- `Death.\' I said. “这回是谁逮住了你?猜!”“死,”我答话。 But, there the silver answer rang, -- `Not Death, but love.\' 听哪,那银铃似的回音:“ 不是死,是爱!”]