Music, when soft voices die

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory,
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

一

轻柔的低语远去了

那音律依然在记忆里回荡

可爱的紫罗兰凋谢了

那芬芳依然抚着四溢的幽香

玫瑰枯萎死去了

残瓣堆成了爱人的床

你留下关切走了

我的爱将枕着思念安眠

二

轻吟已远逝

梦里语依哝

芳兰枯自谢

落土生幽香

玫瑰凋然尽

残瓣遗空床

人去思嘁切

尺枕愫眠长