那些时辰呵，已陈旧苍老，
And their hours are old and gray,
一分一秒都已经葬入
And their minutes buried all
人们脚下踩踏的无数
Under the down-trodden pall
年月的落叶织成的棺椁：
Of the leaves of many years:
冬天的剪刀，封冻的北国，
Many times have winter's shears,
寒冷的南方，已经多少回
Frozen north and chilling east,
把狂风暴雨掀起来带给
Sounded tempests to the feast
林中碎叶的宴会，那时
Of the forest's whispering fleeces,
人们不知道租赁为何事。
Since men knew nor rent nor leases.
呵，再没有号声嘹亮，
No, the bugle sounds no more,
再没有弓弦嘣嘣作响；
And the twanging bow no more;
越过山巅，飘过林地，
Silent is the ivory shrill
牙笛的尖鸣早已沉寂；
Past the heath and up the hill;
树林中央再没有高笑，
There is no mid-forest laugh,
只有回声把余音袅袅
Where lone Echo gives the half
留给人们，听的人奇怪
To some wight, amazed to hear
野林深处有说笑传来。
Jesting, deep in forest drear.
到了六月美好的时刻，
On the fairest time of June
你可以披着阳光或月色，
You may go with sun or moon,
或者由七颗明星照亮，
Or the seven stars to light you,
或者由北极光指路前往；
Or the polar ray to right you;
但是你永远不会再看见
But you never may behold
勇敢的罗宾汉以及小约翰；
Little John, or Robin bold;
他们一伙里，再没有好汉
Never one, of all the clan,