作者:Oscar Wilde
I can write no stately proem
As a prelude to my lay;
From a poet to a poem
I would dare to say.
For if of these fallen petals
Once to you seem fair,
Love will waft it till it settles
On your hair.
And when wind and winter harden
All the loveless land,
It will whisper of the garden,
You will understand.
我写不出华丽的序言
作为这些短歌的序曲;
我胆敢在此说出的
只是一个诗人的一首诗。
倘若这些凋落的残花
能有一朵你觉得美丽,
爱就会将它吹送
安栖在你的发丝。
当北风与冬天让一切凝固
一切变成爱的荒园,
它就会低诉花园的絮语,
你就会恍然大悟。