珀西·比希·雪莱
我从有你的梦中醒来
在夜半甜美的睡眠中起身，
温柔的风在轻轻地吹，
星光是如此迷人。
我从有你的梦中醒来，
足下仿佛有精灵
指引我——谁又知晓？
来到你窗前，心爱的人！
游荡的空气飘落在
幽暗静默的小溪——
黄兰花的芳香像甜美的
思绪在梦中飞散。
夜莺的怨诉，
在她的胸口默然——
我也要在你的心间入眠，
啊，你是如此可爱！
哦，把我从草地上扶起！
我将死去！昏厥！孱弱！
让你爱怜的亲吻如春雨
在我苍白的唇间和双眸上洒落。
我脸颊冰冷，没有血色，唉！
心跳得如此响亮、激烈——
哦！再把它贴紧你的心吧，
在那里它终将碎裂。
The Indian Serenade
Percy Bysshe Shelley
I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me—who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!
The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream—
The Champak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The Nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;—
As I must on thine,
Oh, belovèd as thou art!
Oh lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;—
Oh! Press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.
