托马斯·格雷(1716-1771)，英国18世纪重要诗人。他出生在伦敦的一个经纪人家庭，一生的大部分时间在剑桥大学从事教学与研究工作。他的生活可谓中规中矩，捷足而又稳健。《乡村墓园挽歌》《Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard》是其代表作，把伤感文学推向了顶峰。以下是人见人爱的小编分享的经典诗歌英文版5篇中英对照优秀5篇，希望可以启发、帮助到大家。
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
Thomas Gray
写在教堂墓地的挽歌
托马斯·格雷
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
晚钟为告别的白昼敲起了丧钟，
The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,
咩咩羊群在草地上慢慢盘桓，
The plowman homeward plods his weary way,
农夫疲惫地蹒跚在回家途中，
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
把整个世界留给我与黑暗。
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight,
此刻的大地闪着微光慢慢消退，
And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
四周弥漫着一片寂静和庄严，
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
只听见甲壳虫在空中嗡嗡乱飞，
And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;
沉沉铃声为远处的羊圈催眠。
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower,
只听见那边披着常春藤的塔楼上，
The moping owl does to the moon complain,
有只忧郁的猫头鹰对月抱怨，
Of such, as wandering near her secret bower,
怨有人在她秘密的深闺附近游逛，
Molest her ancient solitary reign.
打扰了她古老而幽静的庭院。
Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade,
老苍的榆树下，紫杉的荫影里，
Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
许多荒冢在烂草堆中隆起，
Each in his narrow cell forever laid,
一个个在小窖里永远躺下躯体，
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
村里的粗鄙先辈在此安息。
The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn,
芬芳四溢的晨风轻轻的呼唤，
The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,
茅草棚上燕子的细语呢喃，
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
回荡的号角，或公鸡的高声鸣啼
No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
再也不能把他们从床上唤起。
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
熊熊炉火再也不会为他们燃烧，
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
主妇夜里也不会再为他们操劳，
No children run to lisp their sire's return,
孩子不再喊着跑去迎接爸爸回家，
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
不再趴到膝上去抢着亲吻撒娇。
Often did the harvest to their sickle yield,
昔日，他们用镰刀去夺取丰收，
Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;
板结的土块被犁成一条条垄沟；
How jocund did they drive their team afield!
赶着牲口下地，他们何等欢欣！
How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
有力的砍伐使一根根树木低头！
Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
别让“雄心”嘲笑他们有用的辛劳，
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
家常的欢乐和默默无闻的命运；
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,
也别让“华贵”带着蔑视的冷笑
The short and simple annals of the poor.
来倾听穷人简朴短暂的生平。
The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
炫耀的门第，显赫的权势，
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
美和财富赋予的一切事物，
Awaits alike the inevitable hour.
都同样等待着不可避免之时:
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
光辉的道路终将导致坟墓。
first desire serenade
最初的愿望小曲
the first desire serenade
in delicated green morning,
i will be a heart.
a heart.
在鲜绿的清晨，
我愿意做一颗心。
一颗心。
in mature night,
i will be a yellowhammer.
a yellowhammer.
在成熟的夜晚，
我愿意做一只黄莺。
一只黄莺。
(o my soul,
dye the color of orange.
o my soul,
dye the color of love.)
(灵魂啊，
披上橙子的颜色。
灵魂啊，
披上爱情的颜色。)
in the active morning,
i will be myself.
a heart.
在活泼的清晨，
我愿意做我。
一颗心。
in quitet night,
i will be my voice.
a yellowhammer.
在沉寂的夜晚，
我愿意做我的声音。
一只黄莺。
o mu soul,
dye the color of orange.
o my soul,
dye the color of love.
灵魂啊，
披上橙子的颜色吧！
灵魂啊，
披上爱情的颜色吧！
the arrow and the song 箭与歌
henry wadsworth longfellow
亨利·沃兹沃斯·朗费罗
i shot an arrow into the air,
我向天空射出一支箭，
it fell to earth i knew not where;
它飞落在不知何处的地面；
for so swiftly it flew the sight,
它飞驰得如此迅速，
could not follow it in its flight.
没有视线能够跟随它的脚步。
i breathed a song into the air,
我向天空轻唱一首歌，
it fell to earth i knew not where;
它消逝在不知何处的角落；
for who has the sight so keen and strong,
谁的目光能够如此锐利，
that can follow the flight of a song.
可以追随歌声的旋律。
long,long afterwards in an oak,
很久很久以后，在一棵橡树上，
i found the arrow still unbroke;
我发现那支箭依然完好如初；
and the song, from beginning to end,
而那首歌自始至终，
i found again in the heart of a friend.
都深深印在一位朋友的心中。
Love at First Sight
Wislawa Szymborska
一见钟情
维斯拉瓦·辛波丝卡
They're both convinced that a sudden passion joined them.
他们彼此深信是瞬间迸发的热情让他们相遇
such certainty is more beautiful,
这样的确定是美丽的
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
但变幻无常更为美丽
since they'd never met before, they're sure that there'd been nothing between them.
他们素未谋面所以他们确定彼此并无任何瓜葛
but what's the word from the streets, staircases, hallways
但是自街道、楼梯、大堂传来的话语
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?
他们也许擦肩而过100万次了吧
i want to ask them if they don't remember a moment face to face in some revolving door?
我想问他们是否记得在旋转门面对面那一刹
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
或是在人群中喃喃道出的对不起
a curt "wrong number"caught in the receiver?
或是在电话的另一端道出的打错了
but i know the answer.
但是我早知道答案
no, they don't remember.
是的，他们并不记得
they'd be amazed to hear that chance has been toying with them now for years.
他们会很讶异原来缘分已经戏弄他们多年
not quite ready yet to become their destiny,
时机尚未成熟变成他们的命运
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
缘分将他们推进
it barred their path,
距离阻挡他们的去路
stifling a laugh,
忍住笑声
and then leaped aside.
然后闪到一旁
there were signs and signals,
有一些迹象和信号存在
even if they couldn't read them yet.
即使他们尚无法解读
perhaps three years ago or just last tuesday
也许在三年前或者就在上个星期二
a certain leaf fluttered from one shoulder to another?
有某片叶子飘舞于肩与肩之间？
something was dropped and then picked up.
有东西掉了又捡了起来？
who knows, maybe the ball that vanished into childhood's thicket?
天晓得，也许是那个消失于童年灌木丛中的球？
there were doorknobs and doorbells where one touch had covered another beforehand.
还有事前已被触摸层层覆盖的门把和门铃
suitcases checked and standing side by side.
检查完毕后并排放置的手提箱
one night. perhaps, the same dream,
有一晚，也许同样的梦，
grown hazy by morning.
到了早晨变得模糊。
every beginning is only a sequel, after all,
每个开始 毕竟都只是续篇，
and the book of events is always open halfway through.
而充满情节的书总是从一半开始看起
children's song孩子们的歌
（r.s.托马斯/作，张文武/译）
we live in our own world,
a world that is too small
for you to stoop and enter
even on hands and knees,
the adult subterfuge.
and though you probe and pry
with analytic eye,
and eavesdrop all our talk
with an amused look,
you cannot find the centre
where we dance, where we play,
where life is still asleep
under the closed flower,
under the smooth shell
of eggs in the cupped nest
that mock the faded blue
of your remoter heaven.
我们生活在自己的世界，
一个对你们而言太小的世界，
即使手脚并用
俯下身子，你们也难以进来。
成年人的托辞。
即使你们用善于分析的眼睛
去探究、窥视，
用愉快的表情
去偷听我们所有的谈话，
你们仍然不能找到那个中心，
在那里，我们跳舞，我们玩耍，
生命仍在酣睡，
在那紧闭的花朵下，
在那光滑的蛋壳下，
杯状的巢内的蛋，
嘲笑着你们那更为遥远的天堂中
褪色的忧郁。