夏洛蒂·勃朗特

在这里你会发现预感诗人夏洛蒂·勃朗特

预感

“姐姐,你在那儿坐了一整天了,到炉边来一会儿吧;风如此狂暴地吹散,云如此黑暗地堆积。那本打开的书,在你膝上躺了好几个小时,没有读;你从来没有笑过,也没有回过头,姐姐,你看到了什么?“到这儿来,简,往田野那边看看;雾爬得多密啊!小路和树篱都隐没了,连白色的大门也不见了;透过雾,我找不到风景,没有青山绿茵;大自然的脸毫无特色,她的面容全被云彩遮蔽。“现在在我们的花园里,树叶的沙沙声已经很少听到了; The year grows old, its days wax brief, The tresses leave its brow. The rain drives fast before the wind, The sky is blank and grey; O Jane, what sadness fills the mind On such a dreary day ! ' 'You think too much, my sister dear; You sit too long alone; What though November days be drear ? Full soon will they be gone. I've swept the hearth, and placed your chair, Come, Emma, sit by me; Our own fireside is never drear, Though late and wintry wane the year, Though rough the night may be.' 'The peaceful glow of our fireside Imparts no peace to me: My thoughts would rather wander wide Than rest, dear Jane, with thee. I'm on a distant journey bound, And if, about my heart, Too closely kindred ties were bound, 'T would break when forced to part. ''Soon will November days be o'er: ' Well have you spoken, Jane: My own forebodings tell me more, For me, I know by presage sure, They'll ne'er return again. Ere long, nor sun nor storm to me Will bring or joy or gloom; They reach not that Eternity Which soon will be my home.' Eight months are gone, the summer sun Sets in a glorious sky; A quiet field, all green and lone, Receives its rosy dye. Jane sits upon a shaded stile, Alone she sits there now; Her head rests on her hand the while, And thought o'ercasts her brow. She's thinking of one winter's day, A few short months ago, When Emma's bier was borne away O'er wastes of frozen snow. She's thinking how that drifted snow Dissolved in spring's first gleam, And how her sister's memory now Fades, even as fades a dream. The snow will whiten earth again, But Emma comes no more; She left, 'mid winter's sleet and rain, This world for Heaven's far shore. On Beulah's hills she wanders now, On Eden's tranquil plain; To her shall Jane hereafter go, She ne'er shall come to Jane !