诗歌与散文最明显的区别就在于，诗歌形式的基本特点是分行、分节的，如果是格律诗，还有严格的格律韵律。汉语的古典诗词，无论是古诗、律诗、绝句，讲平仄，讲诗行字数(五言，七言等)，一般只分行不分节，绝句总是四行，律诗一般是八行，超过八行的称为长律。汉语中的“词”各篇字数不等，但不同词牌的字数和格律有定，虽有小令(58字以内)、中调(59字到90字)和长调(91字以上)之分，有多达一千多个不同的词牌格式(即词谱)，但也无“诗节”之分;词有单调、双调、三叠、四叠之别，也称上、中、下片(或阕)，这“片”或“阕”大概就相当于诗的“节”吧，但也不同于一般的诗节。

　　由此可见，汉语古典格律诗的诗行数目与诗体没有必要的联系，更没有因诗节不同而产生异体现象;而英语有一些格律诗的诗行数目、或组成诗节的诗行数目往往决定着诗的体材，不同诗行数目组成不同的诗节或诗篇，各自有特定的格律，有特定的名称，如两行诗节称为couplet，三行诗节称为triplet，四行诗节称为quatrain，五行诗节称为quintain 或cinquain,等等，各有不同的格律、韵律和其他要求。

　　我在《英诗艺术简论》*一书中用了一章的篇幅专门论述了英诗的诗行和诗节的关系，介绍了英诗中从两行(couplet)到十四行(sonnet)组成的不同诗节和不同格律，但对于由六行诗组成的诗节我在该书中遗漏了，这里作个补充介绍，希望能引起读者和译者的注意。

　　英诗中由六行诗行组成的诗节也有个专门的名称，“Sextain”，不同的六行诗节有不同的韵律，如：1/ aaabab，2/ ababcc，3/ aabccb 或 4/ aabaab，等等。

　　下面仅举两例为证：

　　1/ 下面的六行诗节的韵律是aaabab

　　Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rpus beastie,

　　Oh, what a panic’s in thy breastie!

　　Thou need na start awa sae hasty

　　Wi’ bickering brattle!

　　I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee

　　Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

　　—From To a Mouse by Robert Burns

　　2/ 下面的六行诗节的韵律是ababcc

　　I wandered lonely as a cloud

　　That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

　　When all at once I saw a crowd,

　　A host of golden daffodils,

　　Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

　　Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

　　—From I Wondered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth

　　莎士比亚的Venus and Adonis 也是采用这种韵律的六行诗节写成的。

　　英诗中还有一种特殊的六行诗节，称之为Sestina，由两组分别为六节的六行诗节组成(十二节)，再加上一节三行的结尾诗节(envoy)。下面引锡德尼(Sir Philip Sidney 1554-1586)的Ye Goat-herd Gods一诗作为示例说明之。这首诗是锡德尼写的田园浪漫小说《老阿卡迪亚》(Old Arcadia大约写于1577-1580)中78首插曲中的一首，这些诗的形式都是由两组六节六行诗节加最后三行诗节组成，而非通常的只有六节。第一节每行结尾的词语在后面的所有的六行节中都有重复，其重复的次序每节各不相同，在结尾的三行中，也要重复第一节每行结尾的词语，每行重复两个。假设这首诗的第1个六行诗节从第一行到第六行各行结尾的词语编号为

　　mountains(1)/valleys(2)/forests(3)/music(4)/morning(5)/evening(6)/

　　那么，其余五节六行诗节中每节都要重复这六个结尾词语，但重复的次序有变化。现将其变化的次序列表如下：

　　第1六行节：1/ 2/3/4/5/6

　　第2六行节： 6/ 1/ 5/ 2/ 4/ 3

　　第3六行节： 3/6/ 4/　1/ 2/ 5

　　第4六行节： 5/ 3/ 2/ 6/ 1/ 4

　　第5六行节： 4/ 5/ 1/ 3/ 6/ 2

　　第6六行节： 2/ 4/ 6/ 5/ 3/ 1

　　(第二个六节的六行诗节每行末尾重复词语的次序同前六节的六行诗节)

　　结尾三行： 1 2/3 4 /5 6 /

　　【The poem is one of the 78 interpolated poems in the Old Arcadia which were written in the form of a double sestina stanza (12 stanzas rather than the usual 6, with a concluding triplet). The terminal words of each stanza are the same, but rearranged according to a progressive sequence, and all six terminal words must appear in the final three lines. The Old Arcadia is one form of Sidney’s romance (the other form being the New Arcadia), many of which are ingenious metrical experiments. Ye Goat-herd Gods is a dialogue between Strephon and Klaius, idealized shepherds who are both in love with the absent Urania.】

　　Ye Goat-herd Gods

　　(From The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia by Sir Philip Sidney)

　　Strephon. Ye Goat-herd gods, that love the grassy mountains,1

　　Ye nymphs which haunt the spring in pleasant valleys, 2

　　Ye satyrs joyed with free and quiet forests,　　　　3

　　Vouchsafe your silent ears to plaining music,　　　 4

　　Which to my woes gives still an early morning,　　 5

　　And draws the dolor on till weary evening.　　　　 6

　　Klaius. O Mercury, foregoer to the evening,　　　6

　　O heavenly huntress of the savage mountains,　　1

　　O lovely star, entitled of the morning,　　　　　　 5

　　While that my voice doth fill these woeful valleys　 2

　　Vouchsafe your silent ears to plaining music,　　　 4

　　Which oft hath Echo tired in secret forests.　　　　3

　　Strephon. I that was once free burgess of the forests, 3

　　Where shade from Sun, and sport I sought in evening,6

　　I, that was once esteemed for pleasant music,4

　　Am banished now among the monstrous mountains1

　　Of huge despair, and foul affliction’s valleys, 2

　　Am grown a screech-owl to myself each morning. 5

　　Klaius. I that was once delighted every morning,5

　　Hunting the wild inhabiters of forests, 3

　　I, that was once the music of these valleys, 2

　　So darkened am, that all my day is evening, 6

　　Heart-broken so, that molehills seem high mountains, 1

　　And fill the vales with cries instead of music. 4

　　Strephon. Long since alas, my deadly swannish music 4

　　Hath made itself a cry of the morning, 5

　　And hath with wailing strength climbed highest mountains; 1

　　Lone since my thoughts more desert be than forests, 3

　　Long since I see my joys come to their evening,6

　　And state thrown down to over-trodden valleys.2

　　Klaius. Long since the happy dwellers of these valleys2

　　Have prayed me leave my strange exclaiming music, 4

　　Which troubles their day’s work, and joys of evening;6

　　Long since I hate the night, more hate the morning;5

　　Long since my thoughts chase me like beasts in forests, 3

　　And make me wish myself laid under mountains. 1

　　Strephon. Meseems I see the high and stately mountains

　　Transform themselves to low dejected valleys;

　　Meseems I hear in these ill-changed forests

　　The nightingales do learn of owls their music;

　　Meseems I feel the comfort of the morning

　　Turned to the mortal serene of an evening.

　　Klaius. Meseems I see a filthy cloudy evening

　　As soon as sun begins to climbed the mountains,

　　Meseems I feel a noisome scent, the morning

　　When I do smell the flowers of these valleys;

　　Meseems I hear, when I do hear sweet music,

　　The dreadful cries of murdered men in forests.

　　Strephon. I wish to fire the trees of all these forests;

　　I give the sun a last farewell each evening;

　　I curse the fiddling finders-out of music;

　　With envy I do hate the lofty mountains

　　And with despite despise the humble valleys;

　　I do detest night, evening, day, and morning.

　　Klaius. Curse to myself my prayer is, the morning;

　　My fire is more than can be made with forests,

　　My state more base than are the basest valleys;

　　I wish no evenings more to see, each evening;

　　Shamèd, I hate myself in sight of mountains

　　And stop my ears, lest I grow mad with music.

　　Strephon. For she, whose parts maintained a perfect music,

　　Whose beauties shined more than the blushing morning,

　　Who much did pass in state the stately mountains,

　　In straightness passed the cedars of the forests,

　　Hath cast me, wretch, into eternal evening

　　By taking her two suns from these dark valleys.

　　Klaius. For she, with whom compared, the Alps are valleys,

　　She, whose least word brings from the spheres their music,

　　At whose approach the sun rase in the evening,

　　Who, where she went, bare in her forehead morning,

　　Is gone, is gone from these our spoiled forests,

　　Turning to deserts our best pastured mountains.

　　Strephon. The mountains witness shall, so shall these valleys, 1，2

　　Klaius. These forests eke, made wretched by our music,3，4

　　Our morning hymn this is, and song at evening. 5，6