几个世纪他过着贫困的生活。

Through centuries he lived in poverty.

只有上帝是他唯一的雅致之物。

God only was his only elegance.

过了一代又一代，他变得

Then generation by generation he grew

强壮而自由，变得更好了。

Stronger and freer, a little better off.

他度过了每一生，因为，如果过得糟，

He lived each life because, if it was bad,

他就说下一生可能会好。

He said a good life would be possible.

美好的一生终于来到，香甜的睡眠，鲜艳的水果，

At last the good life came, good sleep, bright fruit,

还有拉撒路把他出卖，

And Lazarus betrayed him to the rest,

人们杀害了他，给他插上羽毛

Who killed him, sticking feathers in his flesh

羞辱他。警告他，把酸酒和他一起

To mock him. They placed with him in his grave

放在坟墓里，给他一本空白的书读；

Sour wine to warm him, an empty book to read;

并在上面竖起一个锯齿状的牌子，

And over it they set a jagged sign,

至于他死亡的碑文，则写着，

Epitaphium to his death, which read,

“好人无形”，仿佛他们知道这点。

The Good Man Has No Shape, as if they knew.