今夜，月亮进入无限慵懒的梦中，

More drowsy dreams the moon tonight. She rests

像在重叠的垫褥上躺着的美人，

Like a proud beauty on heaped cushions pressing,

在入寐以前，用她的手，漫不经心

With light and absent-minded touch caressing,

轻轻将自己乳房的轮廓抚弄，

Before she sleeps, the contour of her breasts.

在雪崩似的绵软的缎子背上，

On satin-shimmering, downy avalanches

月亮奄奄一息地耽于昏厥状态，

She dies from swoon to swoon in languid change,

她的眼睛眺望那如同百花盛开

And lets her eyes on snowy visions range

向蓝天里袅袅上升的白色幻象。

That in the azure rise like flowering branches.

有时，当她感到懒洋洋无事可为，

When sometimes to this earth her languor calm

给地球上滴下一滴悄悄的眼泪，

Lets streak a stealthy tear, a pious poet,

一位虔诚的诗人，厌恶睡眠之士，

The enemy of sleep, in his cupped palm,

就把这一滴像猫眼石碎片一样

Takes this pale tear, of liquid opal spun

闪着红光的苍白眼泪收进手掌，

With rainbow lights, deep in his heart to stow it

放进远离太阳眼睛的他的心里。

Far from the staring eyeballs of the Sun.