试译Paul Verlanine《Moonlight》

Your soul is like a landscape fantasy, Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise, Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise. Singing in minor mode of life’s largesse And all-victorious love, they yet seem quite Reluctant to believe their happiness, And their song mingles with the pale moonlight, The calm, pale moonlight, whose sad beauty, beaming, Sets the birds softly dreaming in the trees, And makes the marbled fountains, gushing, streaming— Slender jet-fountains—sob their ecstasies

你的灵魂像幻想的风景， 在那里面具和佛手柑，处于迷人的智识中， 弹琵琶、跳舞，仅仅是为隐藏 它们迷幻的伪装之下有些许悲伤。 以生命的慷慨和胜利者的爱 当中的少数模式歌唱，它们也似乎 勉强地相信自己幸福， 他们的歌声混合着苍白的月光， 这镇静、苍白的月光，她忧伤的美，照耀着 将鸟类安置在树上的梦中， 又让大理石喷泉，涌出，流淌—— 细长的喷泉——啜泣它们的狂喜。