这云雾、树木、夕阳，虽然美丽，
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem,
却显得寒冷、陌生，像是在梦里，
Though beautiful, cold—strange—as in a dream,
很久前梦见过，现在我重新梦见。
I dreamed long ago, now new begun.
短促而苍白的夏季只是从冬天
The short-lived, paly summer is but won
凛冽的寒战中争来的片刻闪熠；
From winter's ague for one hour's gleam;
星星都暗淡无光，尽管像蓝宝石：
Through sapphire warm, their stars do never beam:
一切都是 冷的美；痛苦没有完：
All is cold beauty; pain is never done:
谁能聪慧如弥诺斯，用心去品尝
For who has mind to relish, Minos-wise,
美的实体，不让病态的想象
The real of beauty, free from that dead hue
伴同虚弱的傲气向美的领域
Sickly imagination and sick pride
投掷灰黑和惨白！彭斯！我一向
Cast wan upon it! Burns! With honour due
尊重你，敬爱你。伟大的诗灵呵，隐去
I oft have honoured thee. Great shadow, hide
你的脸吧；我冒犯了你故乡的天宇。
Thy face; I sin against thy native skies.