Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,

昏昏沉沉吭吭切切的曲调，

Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,

摇前摆后轻哼老辣的歌谣，

     I heard a Negro play.

         我听见一个黑人弹唱。

Down on Lenox Avenue the other night

那个夜晚在雷诺克斯街南，

By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light

陈年的煤气灯惨白昏暗。

     He did a lazy sway . . .

        他懒洋洋摇晃……

     He did a lazy sway . . .

        他懒洋洋摇晃……

To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.

弹着疲惫的布鲁斯曲调。

With his ebony hands on each ivory key

黑手按动象牙白琴键，

He made that poor piano moan with melody.

破旧钢琴一声声悲叹。

     O Blues!

        啊，布鲁斯！

Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool

他坐在歪扭的凳子上前摆后摇，

He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.

痴迷地弹着伤感破碎的曲调。

     Sweet Blues!

        揪心的布鲁斯！

Coming from a black man’s soul.

出自黑人的灵魂。

     O Blues!

        啊，布鲁斯！

In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone

深沉的歌声，忧郁的曲调，

I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan—

我听见黑人歌唱，钢琴哀嚎——

     "Ain’t got nobody in all this world,

        “这世上我无亲无故，

       Ain’t got nobody but ma self.

        无牵无挂，只有我自己。

       I’s gwine to quit ma frownin’

        从今后我不要愁眉苦脸，

       And put ma troubles on the shelf."

        把忧愁烦恼统统忘记。”

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.

嗵，嗵，嗵，他的脚跺在地上，

He played a few chords then he sang some more—

弹了几个和音又接着歌唱——

     "I got the Weary Blues

        “我唱疲惫的布鲁斯，

       And I can’t be satisfied.

        这不叫我称心如意。

       Got the Weary Blues

        我唱疲惫的布鲁斯，

       And can’t be satisfied—

        这不叫我称心如意——

       I ain’t happy no mo’

        我再也不会快活，

       And I wish that I had died."

        我情愿一死了之。”

And far into the night he crooned that tune.

夜深了，他还哼着歌谣，

The stars went out and so did the moon.

星星消失，月亮西沉。

The singer stopped playing and went to bed

唱歌的人停下，上床睡觉，

While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.

疲惫的布鲁斯还在他脑子里发出回音。

He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

他睡得像块石头，睡得像个死人。