When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim[1]soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced[2] upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
當(dāng)你老了,白發(fā)蒼蒼,睡思昏沉,
在爐火旁打盹,請(qǐng)取下這部詩(shī)歌,
慢慢讀,回想你過(guò)去眼神的柔和
回想它們過(guò)去的濃重的陰影;
多少人愛(ài)你年輕歡暢的時(shí)候
出于假意或真心地愛(ài)慕你的美貌,
只有一個(gè)人愛(ài)你那朝圣者的靈魂,
愛(ài)你老去的容顏的痛苦的皺紋。
躬身在紅光閃耀的爐火旁,
凄然地低語(yǔ),愛(ài)為何消逝,
在頭頂?shù)纳缴,它緩緩踱著步子?
將臉隱沒(méi)在群星之中。