| 題名： | 聞歌者唱微之詩 |
| 作者： | 白居易 |
| 新詩絕筆聲名歇， 舊卷生塵篋笥深。 時向歌中聞一句， 未容傾耳已傷心。 | |
| 英譯： |
No new poems his brush will trace:
Even his fame is dead.
His old poems are deep in dust
At the bottom of boxes and cupboards.
Once lately, when someone was singing,
Suddenly I heard a verse —
Before I had time to catch the words
A pain had stabbed my heart.
His writing brush for new poems has ceased; His fame safely at rest. His old scrolls gather dust in his drawer. But when I hear a phrase of his in a song, Even before I've bowed my head to listen My heart breaks. His writing brush for new poems has stopped, his reputation is at rest. The old scrolls gather dust in the drawer. But when I hear his phrase within the song before I incline the ear to listen my heart breaks. His writing brush for new poems has ceased; His fame safely at rest. His old scrolls gather dust in his drawer. But when I hear a phrase of his in a song, Even before I've bowed my head to listen My heart breaks. His writing brush for new poems has stopped, his reputation is at rest. The old scrolls gather dust in the drawer. But when I hear his phrase within the song before I incline the ear to listen my heart breaks. |
| 日譯： | 暫無日譯內容 |