I held it ruth, with him who sings

我曾相信，正如面对一架明净竖琴

   To one clear harp in divers tones,

　演绎出千种音调的他所相信的，

   That men may rnse on stepping-stones

 　人类会以他们死去的自身

Of otheir dead selves to higher things.

作为阶石，迈向更高的事物。

But who shall so forecast the years

然而有谁会把岁月这般预示，

    And find in loss a gain to match?

  　定要在失去中寻回相称的收获？

    Or reach a hand thro' time to catch

   　或是再伸出一只手，穿越时间去拾掇

The far-off interest of tears?

那些泪水在久远之后的利息?

Let Love clasp Grief lest both be drown'd,

让爱紧抓住痛苦以免一起沉溺，

    Let darkness keep her raven gloss:

　让黑暗保持她渡鸦的光泽。

    Ah, sweeter to be drunk with loss,

 　哦，因为与丧失对酌，

To dance with death, to beat the ground,

与死亡共舞，且顿足踏地，

Than that the victor Hours should scorn

 这些都要好过时间这个得胜者的姿态，

     The long result of love, and boast,

 　它只会嘲笑爱的徒劳，并夸耀说，

     ‘Behold the man that loved and lost,

  　“瞧那个人，爱过，失去过，

But all he was is overworn.’

  但他所有的存在，也只剩下形骸。”