我為美而死,卻還不能
適應墳墓
一個為真理而死的人
正躺在我的隔壁——
他輕聲地問,“你為何而死?”
“為了美?!蔽一卮稹?/p>
“我,為真理,它們本是一體——
我們,是同胞?!彼f——
就這樣,像親人,重逢在夜里——
我們隔墻而談——
直到青苔爬上我們的嘴唇——
覆蓋我們的姓名——
I died for Beauty—but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room—
He questioned softly “Why I failed”?
“For Beauty”, I replied—
“And I—for Truth—Themself are One—
We Brethren, are”, He said—
And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night—
We talked between the Rooms—
Until the Moss had reached our lips—
And covered up—our names—