Come In

As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went --
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.

请 进
曹明伦译

当我走进树林边的时候，
忽然听画眉一阵啼鸣，
若说当时林外正值黄昏，
树林中已是一片幽冥。

树林里太黑，漆黑一团，
鸟儿即便有灵巧翅膀。
也没法为过夜另择高枝，
不过它还能继续歌唱。

那片在西天消散的晚霞，
那抹渐渐隐去的余晖，
依然还辉映在画眉心中，
使它还能够哀歌一曲。

在黑咕隆咚的树林深处，
画眉的歌声依然悠扬，
歌声仿佛是在叫我进去，
去暗中与它一道悲伤。

但不，我是出来看星星；
并没想到要进入树林。
我是说请我我也不会进，
何况我从没受到邀请。