Percy Bysshe Shelley
We are the clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
We rise.--One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond foe, or cast our cares away:
It is the same!--For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man';s yesterday may ne';er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
无常
珀西·比西·雪莱
我们象遮蔽午夜之月的云彩；
它一刻不停地奔跑，闪耀，颤栗，
向黑暗放出灿烂的光辉！——但很快
夜幕合拢了，它就永远隐去；
又象被忘却的琴，不调和的弦
每次拨弄都发出不同的音响，
在那纤弱的乐器上，每次重弹，
情调和音节都不会和前次一样。
我们睡下：一场梦能毒戕安息；
我们起来：游思又会玷污白天；
我们感觉，思索，想象，笑或哭泣，
无论抱住悲伤，或者摔脱忧烦：
终归是一样！——因为呵，在这世间，
无论是喜悦或悲伤都会溜走：
我们的明日从不再象昨天，
唉，除了“无常”，一切都不肯停留。