雪莱
To-By Percy Bysshe Shelley
One word is too often profaneFor me to profan it,One feeling too falsely disdain'dFor thee to disdain it;One hope is too like despairFor prudence to smother,And pity from thee more dearThan that from another.I can give not what man call love;But wilt thou accept notThe worship the heart lifts aboveAnd the Heavens reject not,-The desire of the moth for star,Of the night for the morrow,The devotion to something afarFrom the sphere of our sorrow? 给-雪莱有一个字常被人滥用,我不想再滥用它;有和种感情不被看重,你岂能再轻视它?有一种希望太像绝望,慎重也无法压碎;只求怜悯起自你心上,对我就万分珍贵.我奉献的不能叫爱情,它只能算得是崇拜,连上天都肯对它垂青,想你该不致见外?这有如飞蛾向往星天,暗夜想拥抱天明,怎能不让悲惨的尘寰对遥远的事物倾心?
来自 豆瓣App
