我要盖一幢云屋，让我的思想住进去;对尘世来说太飘逸，对天堂来说太低微!嘘!我大声说出我的梦——我把它建造得明亮，——我把它建造在月光下的云上，我和你一起仰望着它。清晨灰色的云墙，面对着琥珀柱，——从庄严的夕阳中，戴着深红色的圆顶!愿薄雾为窗扉带来苍白而闪烁的光芒;每个角落都藏着阳光，还有春天的气息。把入口筑得高大挺拔，时而阴暗，时而明亮，——犹如雷云被闪电撕裂，布满了纹路。用一个有虹膜污点的，作为里面的门;变成雨声，当我进入。 Build a spacious hall thereby: Boldly, never fearing. Use the blue place of the sky, Which the wind is clearing; Branched with corridors sublime, Flecked with winding stairs--- Such as children wish to climb, Following their own prayers. In the mutest of the house, I will have my chamber: Silence at the door shall use Evening's light of amber, Solemnising every mood, Softemng in degree,--- Turning sadness into good, As I turn the key. Be my chamber tapestried With the showers of summer, Close, but soundless,---glorified When the sunbeams come here; Wandering harpers, harping on Waters stringed for such,--- Drawing colours, for a tune, With a vibrant touch. Bring a shadow green and still From the chestnut forest, Bring a purple from the hill, When the heat is sorest; Spread them out from wall to wall, Carpet-wove around,--- Whereupon the foot shall fall In light instead of sound. Bring the fantasque cloudlets home From the noontide zenith Ranged, for sculptures, round the room,--- Named as Fancy weeneth: Some be Junos, without eyes; Naiads, without sources Some be birds of paradise,--- Some, Olympian horses. Bring the dews the birds shake off, Waking in the hedges,--- Those too, perfumed for a proof, From the lilies' edges: From our England's field and moor, Bring them calm and white in; Whence to form a mirror pure, For Love's self-delighting. Bring a grey cloud from the east, Where the lark is singing; Something of the song at least, Unlost in the bringing: That shall be a morning chair, Poet-dream may sit in, When it leans out on the air, Unrhymed and unwritten. Bring the red cloud from the sun While he sinketh, catch it. That shall be a couch,---with one Sidelong star to watch it,--- Fit for poet's finest Thought, At the curfew-sounding,--- ; Things unseen being nearer brought Than the seen, around him. Poet's thought,----not poet's sigh! 'Las, they come together! Cloudy walls divide and fly, As in April weather! Cupola and column proud, Structure bright to see--- Gone---except that moonlit cloud, To which I looked with thee! Let them! Wipe such visionings From the Fancy's cartel--- Love secures some fairer things Dowered with his immortal. The sun may darken,---heaven be bowed--- But still, unchanged shall be,--- Here in my soul,---that moonlit cloud, To which I looked with THEE!