Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

双倍弯腰，就像老乞丐被麻袋压弯，

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

半蹲不蹲，像丑老太婆一样咳嗽，我们透过污泥咒骂，

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

直到我们在不祥的照明弹下转身

And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

开始向着遥远的休憩处跋涉。

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

男人们半睡半醒，很多人丢掉了靴子

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; c

但是仍然一瘸一拐地走，脚被血浸透。一瘸一拐，看不见东西，

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

疲惫又醉酒，甚至听不到“59弹”的呼啸声，

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

那炮弹有气无力，被甩在我们队伍的后面。

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,

毒气！毒气！快，小伙子们--经过一阵迷狂的乱摸，

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

及时戴上了笨重的防毒面具；

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,

但还是有人在手忙脚乱中大喊，

And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .

就像在大火或者生石灰里挣扎……

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

透过玻璃片和厚重的绿光看出去，昏暗一片，

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

就像在绿色的海洋中，我看到他在溺水。

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

在我一世的梦中，在我无望的瞪视下，

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

他猛冲向我，摇曳，哽喘，溺毙。

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

我们抓住他的手脚把他悠到大车上

Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

在有些窒闷的梦中你也会跟着这辆车慢行。

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

看他脸上蠕动的白眼珠，

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

他悬垂的脸，就像魔鬼厌倦了罪恶；

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

如果你能听，就会听到在每次颠簸中，那血

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

在腐败成泡沫的肺中咕噜一下，

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

癌一般下作，邪恶的反胃一样苦，

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,

足以永久烧伤无辜的舌头，

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

我的朋友，你不可以热情地告诉孩子们，

To children ardent for some desperate glory,

那些渴望听到不顾一切的荣耀的孩子们，

The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est

那个古老的谎言:

Pro patria mori.

为国捐躯，死得其所。