The Honeysuckle

The Honeysuckle

  by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I plucked a honeysuckle where
The hedge on high is quick with thorn,
And climbing for the prize, was torn,
And fouled my feet in quag-water;
And by the thorns and by the wind
The blossom that I took was thinn'd,
And yet I found it sweet and fair.
Thence to a richer growth I came,
Where, nursed in mellow intercourse,
The honeysuckles sprang by scores,
Not harried like my single stem,
All virgin lamps of scent and dew.        
So from my hand that first I threw,
Yet plucked not any more of them.

忍冬

 王冰 译

在长满棘刺的高篱上，
我采摘到一支忍冬花，
为了这个奖赏，
我努力攀爬，
划破了我的衣衫，
在泥泞的水中弄脏了
我的双脚，
花朵在荆棘和风中飞落，
我采的花变得稀疏，
然而
花朵如此芬芳美丽，
在甘美气息的滋养中
我也变得更加娇艳，
忍冬一簇簇地盛开，
没有象我手中的那束
被摧残而凋零，
从我的手中，
所有无暇芬芳的光芒，
渐渐消逝，
从此我再不采撷忍冬花。

但丁•加布利耶尔•罗塞蒂简介