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    [江油李白故里網] 日期:2016年9月2日458作者: 來源:放大字體正常縮小關閉



    1).In the Still of the Night

    I descry bright moonlight in front of my bed.

    I suspect it to be hoary frost on the floor.

    I watch the bright moon, as I tilt back my head.

    I yearn, while stooping, for my homeland more.

    2).A Tranquil Night

    Abed, I see a silver light,

    I wonder if it"s frost aground.

    Looking up, I find the moon bright;

    Bowing, in homesickness I"m drowned.

    3).In the Quiet Night

    So bright a gleam on the foot of my bed---

    Could there have been a frost already?

    Lifting my head to look, I found that it was moonlight.

    Sinking back again, I thought suddenly of home.

    (Tr. Witter Bynner)

    4). Night Thoughts

    I wake, and moonbeams play around my bed,

    Glittering like hoar-frost to my wandering eyes;

    Up towards the glorious moon I raise my head,

    Then lay me down---and thoughts of home arise.

    ( Tr. Herbert A. Giles)

    5). On a Quiet Night

    I saw the moonlight before my couch,

    And wondered if it were not the frost on the ground.

    I raised my head and looked out on the mountain noon,

    I bowed my head and though of my far-off home.

    (TR. S. Obata)

    6). The Moon Shines Everywhere

    Seeing the moon before my couch so bright

    I thought hoar frost had fallen from the night.

    On her clear face I gaze with lifted eyes:

    Then hide them full of Youth"s sweet memories.

    (Tr. W.J.B. Fletcher)

    7). Night Thoughts

    In front of my bed the moonlight is very bright.

    I wonder if that can be frost on the floor?

    I list up my head and look at the full noon, the dazzling moon.

    I drop my head, and think of the home of old days.

    (Tr. Amy Lowell)

    8). Thoughts in a Tranquil Night

    Athwart the bed

    I watch the moonbeams cast a trail

    So bright, so cold, so frail,

    That for a space it gleams

    Like hoar-frost on the margin of my dreams.

    I raise my head, -

    The splendid moon I see:

    Then droop my head,

    And sink to dreams of thee -

    My father land , of thee!

    (Tr. L. Cranmer-Byng)

    9). Nostalgia

    A splash of white on my bedroom floor. Hoarfrost?

    I raise my eyes to the moon, the same noon.

    As scenes long past come to mind, my eyes fall again on the splash of white,

    and my heart aches for home.

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