They are the only dead who did not love,

他们是唯一没有爱过的死者，

Lipless and tongueless in the sour earth

在酸涩的土壤里，没有嘴唇且烂掉了舌头

Staring at others, poor unlovers.

瞪视着另外的、可怜的未被爱过的死者。

They are the only living thing who did love,

他们是唯一确确实实地爱过的活人，

So are we full with strength,

我们也是，浑身是劲，

Ready to rise, easy to sleep.

准备爬起，又安然睡去。

Who has completeness that can cut

谁能在女人索要与给予之时

A comic hour to an end through want of woman

结束掉那喜滋滋的时刻掉头而去

And the warmth she gives,

而依然是人

And yet be human,

感觉到同样温柔的血液流遍周身

Feel the same soft blood flow thoroughly,

喝酒吃肉，一点也不爱

Have food and drink, unloving?

却仍保持灵与肉的完整呢？

None, and his deadly welcome

当然不能，在完事之时，

At the hour's end

他闷闷不乐的一声问候

Shall prove unworthy for his doing,

将证实他对他的所作所为并不乐意，

Which was good at word,

那只是一句花言巧语

But came from out the mouth unknowing

从一张和我们一模一样的

Of such great goodness as is ours.

并不知道某种伟大和神圣的嘴里吐出。

There is no dead but is not loved

没有死亡，只有不被爱

Awhile, a little,

或一会儿，一点点的爱，

Out of fullness of another's heart

来自另一个人饱涨的、让那么多的爱

Having so much to spare.

白白地挥霍掉的胸臆间。

That, then, is fortunate,

然而，那还只是运气，

But, by your habit unreturned,

而且，全凭你不再重返的某种习惯

And by your habit unreturnable.

和不可能重返的习惯。

So is there missed a certain godliness

那失去的不折不扣的神圣的东西

That's not without it's woe,

也是如此，不是没有悲哀，

And not without divinity,

也不是不神圣，

For it can quicken or it can kill.

只因它极易消逝且易于扼毙。

Look, there's the dead who did not love,

看，一些没有爱过的死者

And there's the living who did love,

一些真真切切地爱着的生者

Around our little selves

缠绕在我们小小的自我周围

Touching our separate love with badinage.

以嘲讽触碰我们分裂的爱。