On My Songs Poem by Luo Zhihai

★ On My Songs

☆ by Wilfred Owen

Though unseen Poets, many and many a time,
Have answered me as if they knew my woe,
And it might seem have fashioned so their rime
To be my own soul's cry; easing the flow
Of my dumb tears with language sweet as sobs,
Yet are there days when all these hoards of thought
Hold nothing for me. Not one verse that throbs
Throbs with my heart, or as my brain is fraught.
'Tis then I voice mine own weird reveries:
Low croonings of a motherless child, in gloom
Singing his frightened self to sleep, are these.
One night, if thou shouldst lie in this Sick Room,
Dreading the Dark thou darest not illume,
Listen; my voice may haply lend thee ease.


▲ Chinese Translation

★ 我的歌

☆ [英] 威尔弗雷德•欧文 (1893-1918) 诗
☆ [中] 罗志海 译

虽然看不见的诗人，很多次回答我
如同知道我的悲哀难过
他们已经塑造出豁达的高风亮节
我面对自己灵魂呐喊，舒缓地流着
眼泪，这无言与蜜语交织的呜咽
这些天来，他们为我付出却一无所得
没有诗歌，像我的心一样汩汩跳动
我的脑海忧心忡忡
我在自己的歌声中沉迷幻想
黑暗中，一个没娘的孩子低声吟唱
他独自一人睡觉时常害怕
要是你躺在这病房一晚
你只有黑暗没有光明害不害怕？
听哪，我的歌声或许就是你的妙药灵丹


北京时间2014年12月29日翻译
Beijing time 12/29/2014 translation