behold her,single in the field,
yon solitary highland lass!
reaping and singing by herself;
stop here,or gently pass!
alone she cuts and binds the grain,
and sings a melancholy strain;
o listen!for the vale profound
is overflowing with the sound.
no nightingale did ever chaunt
more welcome notes to weary bands
of travellers in some shady haunt,
among arabian sands:
no sweeter voice was ever heard
in spring-time from the cuckoo-bird,
breaking the silence of the seas
among the farthest hebrides.
will no one tell me what she sings?
perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
for old,unhappy,for-off things,
and battles long ago:
or is it some humble lay,
familiar matter of today?
some natural sorrow,loss,or pain,
that has been, and may be again!
whate'er the theme,the maiden sang
as if her song could have no ending,
i saw her singing at her work,
and o'er the sickle bending;
i listen'd, motionless and still;
and, as i mounted up the hill,
the music in my heart i bore
long after it was heard no more.
你看她，一个人在地上，
那个孤独的山地姑娘！
独自割麦，独自在唱歌；
停在这，或者轻轻走过！
她一个人割着捆着麦子，
唱着凄凉的调子；
哦，听吧！这山谷深深，
弥漫着她的歌声。
夜莺在阿拉伯的沙漠里面，
在幻洲的某些树阴，
为疲倦的商旅所欢迎，
从没有唱得这样好听；
春天时分杜鹃鸟鸣
在极远得希伯里得斯群岛
叫破了海洋的沉静，
从没有叫出这样甜的声音。
没有人告诉我她唱的是什么，
或许是古老的不幸的哀歌
歌唱这遥远的事物，
歌唱这古代的战火；
或许是流传的民间歌谣
歌唱着今天的口碑传说？
是一些难免的悲哀，死亡或者痛苦，
以前有过，将来也会遇着。
不问内容如何，那姑娘在唱歌，
她的歌声好像中唱不完，
我看一面唱一面工作，
完着要伏在镰刀上面；
我理这静静地倾听；
待我已经登上了丘陵，
歌声早已不再听闻，
幽韵却总缭绕着我的心。