我为美而死

我为美而死，却还不能

适应坟墓

一个为真理而死的人

正躺在我的隔壁——

他轻声地问，“你为何而死？”

“为了美。”我回答——

“我，为真理，它们本是一体——

我们，是同胞。”他说——

就这样，像亲人，重逢在夜里——

我们隔墙而谈——

直到青苔爬上我们的嘴唇——

覆盖我们的姓名——

I died for Beauty

I died for Beauty—but was scarce

Adjusted in the Tomb

When One who died for Truth, was lain

In an adjoining Room—

He questioned softly “Why I failed”?

“For Beauty”, I replied—

“And I—for Truth—Themself are One—

We Brethren, are”, He said—

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night—

We talked between the Rooms—

Until the Moss had reached our lips—

And covered up—our names—