Wasted Days

(From a Picture Painted by Miss V. T.)



A fair slim boy not made for this world's pain,

With hair of gold thick clustering round his ears,

And longing eyes half veil'd by foolish tears

Like bluest water seen through mists of rain;

Pale cheeks whereon no kiss hath left its stain,

Red under-lip drawn in for fear of Love,

And white throat whiter than the breast of dove—

Alas! Alas! If all should be in vain.



Corn-fields behind, and reapers all a-row

In weariest labour toiling wearily,

To no sweet sound of laughter, or of lute;

And careless of the crimson sunset-glow

The boy still dreams: nor knows that night is nigh:

And in the night-time no man gathers fruit.



Oxford, Oct. 30th

虚掷的光阴

（据V.T.小姐的画作而吟）




一个纤瘦的英俊少年，不涉尘世之苦，

浓密的金发耷盖着他的耳轮，

渴望的眼睛被无谓的泪水半掩，

像穿越了雨雾的两道蓝幽幽的清泉；

苍白的脸颊不曾留下任何亲吻的印痕，

因为惧怕爱而紧抿红色的下唇，

白皙的颈项比鸽子的胸脯更洁白——

哀哉！噫吁兮！若是将这一切虚掷。



背后是田野，刈割者排成一长列，

在辛苦地从事最辛苦的劳作，

没有甜蜜的笑声，也没有诗琴响，

也不会去关心日落时分的红晕，

那少年仍在做梦：不知黑夜即将来临，

而在夜黑时光，没有人去采摘鲜果。



牛津，10月30日