THE WHITE BIRDS
--by W.B. Yeats

Would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam¹ of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight², hung low on the rim³ of the sky,
Has awakened⁴ in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.
亲爱的，但愿我们是浪尖上一双白鸟！
流星尚未陨逝，我们已厌倦了它的闪耀；
天边低悬，晨光里那颗蓝星的幽光，
唤醒了你我心中，一缕不死的忧伤。
  
A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;
Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,
Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:
For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!
露湿的百合、玫瑰梦里逸出一丝困倦；
呵，亲爱的，可别梦那流星的闪耀，
也别梦那蓝星的幽光在滴露中低徊：
但愿我们化作浪尖上的白鸟：我和你！

I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,
Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;
Soon far from the rose and the lily, and fret⁵ of the flames would we be,
Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed⁶ out on the foam of the sea! 
我心头萦绕着无数岛屿和丹南湖滨，
在那里岁月会以遗忘我们，悲哀不再来临；
转瞬就会远离玫瑰、百合和星光的侵蚀，
只要我们是双白鸟，亲爱的，出没在浪花里！