Sudden Light 顿悟

BY Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I have been here before,

But when or how I cannot tell:

I know the grass beyond the door,

The sweet keen smell,

The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

我曾来过这里，

但是说不清是何时何故：

我记得门外的野草

和他们那清甜的味道，

海潮的叹息和岸边的灯火。

You have been mine before,—

How long ago I may not know:

But just when at that swallow's soar

Your neck turn'd so,

Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.

你曾经属于我，

是多久之前我已记不得：

但就在燕子腾空的一刹那，

你回头看见了我，

面纱也随之垂落——但那已经是很久以前的事了。

Has this been thus before?

And shall not thus time's eddying flight

Still with our lives our love restore

In death's despite,

And day and night yield one delight once more?

是早已如此？

还是因为经历了时间的漩涡，

我们的爱随着生活的过往开始修复。

就算置生死于不顾，

还能否在日夜的更替间再寻得一丝欢愉？

The Old Walk

像往常一样的散步

by William Nicholson (writer/director)

I began by thinking I could save you,

but in the end all I can do is honor you.

My mother, first among women,

my warmth and my comfort, my safety, my pride.

You are the one I want to please,

you are the one I want to applaud me.

开始我以为能拯救你，

但最后只能赞颂你。

我的母亲，我最爱的女人，我的温暖和安逸，安全和自豪。

我只想取悦你，

我只想让你为我骄傲。

My father first among men,

my teacher and my judge,

the man I know I will become.

You grow older now,

you are still ahead of me as you will always be, forever further down the road.

我的父亲，我最爱的男人，

我的老师，我的裁判，

是我以后会成为的那个人。

虽然你已经不再年轻，

但你还是一如往常地走在我的前面，走在比我远的路上。

Forgive me for needing you to be strong forever.

Forgive me for fearing your unhappiness.

As you suffer so I shall suffer.

As you endure I shall endure.

Hold my hands and walk the old walk one last time, then let me go.

原谅我对你的需要，需要你永远坚强。

原谅我对你的担心，担心你的不快乐。

因为你痛苦我就痛苦

你难受我就难受

请握着我的手

最后一次

像往常一样去散步

然后让我走。

For The Fallen

by Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

Say not the Struggle nought Availeth

BY arthur Hugh Clough

Say not the struggle nought availeth,

The labour and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;

It may be, in yon smoke concealed,

Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking

Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back through creeks and inlets making,

Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light,

In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly,

But westward, look, the land is bright.

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death

by W. B. Yeats

I know that I shall meet my fate

Somewhere among the clouds above;

Those that I fight I do not hate

Those that I guard I do not love;

My country is Kiltartan Cross,

My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,

No likely end could bring them loss

Or leave them happier than before.

Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,

Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,

A lonely impulse of delight

Drove to this tumult in the clouds;

I balanced all, brought all to mind,

The years to come seemed waste of breath,

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life, this death.

An Exequy to His Matchless Never to be Forgotten Friend (1657)

Henry King

Sleep on, my love, in thy cold bed,

Never to be disquieted!

My last goodnight! Thou wilt not wake

Till I thy fate shall overtake;

Till age, or grief, or sickness must

Marry my body to that dust

It so much loves, and fill the room

My heart keeps empty in thy tomb.

Stay for me there, I will not fail

To meet thee in that hollow vale.

And think not much of my delay;

I am already on the way,

And follow thee with all the speed

Desire can make, or sorrows breed.

Each minute is a short degree,

And every hour a step towards thee.

At night when I betake to rest,

Next morn I rise nearer my west

Of life, almost by eight hours’ sail,

Than when sleep breathed his drowsy gale.

Thus from the sun my bottom steers,

And my day’s compass downward bears;

Nor labour I to stem the tide

Through which to thee I swiftly glide.

‘Tis true, with shame and grief I yield,

Thou like the van first took’st the field,

And gotten hath the victory

In thus adventuring to die

Before me, whose more years might crave

A just precedence in the grave.

But hark! my pulse like a soft drum

Beats my approach, tells thee I come;

And slow howe’er my marches be,

I shall at last sit down by thee.

The thought of this bids me go on,

And wait my dissolution

With hope and comfort. Dear, (forgive

The crime) I am content to live

Divided, with but half a heart,

Till we shall meet and never part.