Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
By Emily Dickinson
'Hope' is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
“希望”长有羽翼
“希望”长有羽翼——
栖息在灵魂之上——
唱着无词的曲调
从不止歇——
甜美无比——在狂风中——听闻
暴风雨猛烈
刮打着小鸟
保有如此之多的温暖
在最冷之地听到过——
在奇异无比的海上——
却从未在绝境中
向我索取过一点面包屑 |
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