behold her,single in the field,
yon solitary highland lass!
reaping and singing by herself;
stop here,or gently pass!
alone she cuts and binds the grain,
and sings a melancholy strain;
o listen!for the vale profound
is overflowing with the sound.
no nightingale did ever chaunt
more welcome notes to weary bands
of travellers in some shady haunt,
among arabian sands:
no sweeter voice was ever heard
in spring-time from the cuckoo-bird,
breaking the silence of the seas
among the farthest hebrides.
will no one tell me what she sings?
perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
for old,unhappy,for-off things,
and battles long ago:
or is it some humble lay,
familiar matter of today?
some natural sorrow,loss,or pain,
that has been, and may be again!
whate'er the theme,the maiden sang
as if her song could have no ending,
i saw her singing at her work,
and o'er the sickle bending;
i listen'd, motionless and still;
and, as i mounted up the hill,
the music in my heart i bore
long after it was heard no more.
你看她，一個人在地上，
那個孤獨的山地姑娘！
獨自割麥，獨自在唱歌；
停在這，或者輕輕走過！
她一個人割着捆着麥子，
唱着淒涼的調子；
哦，聽吧！這山谷深深，
瀰漫着她的歌聲。
夜鶯在阿拉伯的沙漠裏面，
在幻洲的某些樹陰，
爲疲倦的商旅所歡迎，
從沒有唱得這樣好聽；
春天時分杜鵑鳥鳴
在極遠得希伯裏得斯羣島
叫破了海洋的沉靜，
從沒有叫出這樣甜的聲音。
沒有人告訴我她唱的是什麼，
或許是古老的不幸的哀歌
歌唱這遙遠的事物，
歌唱這古代的戰火；
或許是流傳的民間歌謠
歌唱着今天的口碑傳說？
是一些難免的悲哀，死亡或者痛苦，
以前有過，將來也會遇着。
不問內容如何，那姑娘在唱歌，
她的歌聲好像中唱不完，
我看一面唱一面工作，
完着要伏在鐮刀上面；
我理這靜靜地傾聽；
待我已經登上了丘陵，
歌聲早已不再聽聞，
幽韻卻總繚繞着我的心。
