英诗汉译

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 in 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 

希望若玄鸟 

灵魂深处栖 

鸟语人莫识 

歌吟不止息 

风中鸣欢乐 

雨里唱忧郁 

风雨凄凄夜 

声声沁心底 

朔方寒刺骨 

瀚海百丈冰 

天涯海角处 

未闻乞食声