你还记得有一次，在欢乐的巴黎，那个夜晚，我们在第三轮月光下漫步，远离明亮的街道和繁华的地方，站在塞纳河从宁静的码头间流过的地方吗?城市的声音安静下来;平静而有光泽的水面倒映在燃烧着橙色窗户的墙上。走出繁星点点的南方惹来流言蜚语，给我们带来了早已北转的春意。乳房靠在乳房上，环绕着它柔软的欲望，我的手臂不确定地偷偷地贴在那里，不被排斥。我想我的心再也不会飞到大自然花园里最后一朵幸福的花那里了。在那里，在你的美丽被愉悦所抛弃的甜蜜中，那沉默的、半张开的嘴唇和温柔的、好奇的眼睛，我看到了第一次在我身上体现的微笑，那是我在海上和夏天的天空后面寻找已久的宝藏。亲爱的脸，当我向死神求爱时，死神会夺走我的四肢，发现它们躺在某个荒无人烟的地方，独自一人，或者在战争的汹涌波涛冲刷着湿沙的地方，当红色的洪流退去时，留下喘息的生命的裂缝，从遥远的过去的疯狂深渊中再次闪耀出来，就像那时你闪耀一样，——亲爱的头，在我们眩目的亲吻中狂喜地躺着，被如此渴望的幸福所改变。我病重的手臂将会分开，尽管灼热灼烧着它，我的嘴将会再次弯曲，带着古老而温柔的火焰。当黑暗降临，我的灵魂仍在追寻你短暂爱情的梦想，你的名字仍在我的唇边。 II You loved me on that moonlit night long since. You were my queen and I the charming prince Elected from a world of mortal men. You loved me once. . . . What pity was it, then, You loved not Love. . . . Deep in the emerald west, Like a returning caravel caressed By breezes that load all the ambient airs With clinging fragrance of the bales it bears From harbors where the caravans come down, I see over the roof-tops of the town The new moon back again, but shall not see The joy that once it had in store for me, Nor know again the voice upon the stair, The little studio in the candle-glare, And all that makes in word and touch and glance The bliss of the first nights of a romance When will to love and be beloved casts out The want to question or the will to doubt. You loved me once. . . . Under the western seas The pale moon settles and the Pleiades. The firelight sinks; outside the night-winds moan -- The hour advances, and I sleep alone. III Farewell, dear heart, enough of vain despairing! If I have erred I plead but one excuse -- The jewel were a lesser joy in wearing That cost a lesser agony to lose. I had not bid for beautifuller hours Had I not found the door so near unsealed, Nor hoped, had you not filled my arms with flowers, For that one flower that bloomed too far afield. If I have wept, it was because, forsaken, I felt perhaps more poignantly than some The blank eternity from which we waken And all the blank eternity to come. And I betrayed how sweet a thing and tender (In the regret with which my lip was curled) Seemed in its tragic, momentary splendor My transit through the beauty of the world.