——艾米莉·狄金
Emily Dickinson
Nobody knows this little Rose --
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
没有人会记得这一朵蔷薇
没有人会记得这一朵蔷薇,
也许她从此就漂泊流离,
要不是我把她从路边捡起,
把她捡来献给了你。
只有一只蜂儿思念着她,
或许还有一只蝴蝶,
匆匆从远处找到这里,
为的是在她胸口小憩歇息。
只有一只小鸟感到惊讶,
还有一阵微风悄悄叹息,
叹息这朵小小的花儿,
小小的花儿多么容易枯萎



一朵无名的小花

拐脚瘦马
