你曾受邀到皇宫，是一位

Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,

吟诵高贵诗篇的温雅歌手！

Most gracious singer of high poems! where

宫廷中翩然起舞的贵客们停住脚步，

The dancers will break footing, from the care

为了更好地欣赏你那丰满朱唇吐出的歌声。

Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more.

然而你却打开我的门栓，难道你的手

And dost thou lift this house’s latch too poor

不嫌弃它过于破旧？难道你甘心

For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear

让你的歌声只在我的门前叠成丰厚的金箔，

To let thy music drop here unaware

而无别人享受？你是否可以忍受这一切？

In folds of golden fulness at my door?

朝上看，那里的窗户已被闯破，

Look up and see the casement broken in,

蝙蝠和夜莺窠居在屋顶，

The bats and owlets builders in the roof!

这里的蟋蟀啾啾叫，同你的琵琶抗衡。

My cricket chirps against thy mandolin.

停下吧，别再引来更多的回声，

Hush, call no echo up in further proof

别再证实它的凄凉与残破！里面有一个声音

Of desolation! there’s a voice within

在低声啜泣……正像你应该当众唱歌。

That weeps . . . as thou must sing . . . alone, aloof.