COME IN

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As I came to the edge of the woods,

Thrush music——hark!

Now if it was dusk outside,

Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird

By sleight of wing

To better its perch for the night,

Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun

That had died in the west

Still lived for one song more

In a thrush’s breast.

Far in the pillared dark

Thrush music went——

Almost like a call to come in

To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;

I would not come in.

I meant not even I asked;

And I hadn’t been.

步入

我来到树林边缘

画眉的音乐——听!

此刻林外若是黄昏,

林中就是暗影。

树林对于鸟儿过于黑暗,

它灵巧地拍打翅膀,

寻找过夜的更好栖木,

但它这时仍能歌唱。

最后的那一缕阳光

已消失在西方,

但仍驻足再听一曲

在那画眉的胸腔。

从远处立柱支起的黑暗中

传来华美的音乐——

几乎是在召唤人们

步入黑暗和悲哀。

可是不,我是来看星星的:

我并不愿意步入。

即使有人邀请我也不去,

何况也无人请我。