狂欢的手已来到我的门前，我听着它的敲门声，便快步走了下去。信仰已被遗忘，责任也不再牵着我走。狂欢节像火一样在我的血管里流淌!某种不可抑制的欲望鞭策着我去接那从胸前扔到胸前的玫瑰，用我自己那转瞬即逝的吻去抓住那转瞬即逝的吻;我为了这狂野而毫无价值的时刻，打破了所有的信念，跳舞，奔跑，招手，就像一朵花半信半就地让蜜蜂发狂，然后闭上花瓣飞回空中。我被笑声和追逐弄得晕头转向，听见尖厉的风跳了出来，又沉了下去，追着春天躺过的绿床，又消失了，它的脚步声在山上的高树间发出了可听见的音乐。我头顶上倚着一只歌唱得很沉重的夜莺，它的喉咙里唱出悠长的调子，那么尖锐，那么悦耳，我认为它的年轻伙伴，听着它唱得比我在狂欢节上还不热烈!在城镇的上空，黑沉沉的夜滚来滚去，躺在她的太阳花畦上:一轮新月，年轻而瘦削，像一棵科伦拜恩树，躺在她的老花衣上，戏弄着荒废的山岗，她最近在苦涩的天空中憔悴，鬼祟而苍老，一个没有希望的女人，在久已熟悉的街道上乞讨，罪恶曾经在那里寻找她，现在却战栗而过。我被欢乐的人群缠住，跌跌撞撞地穿过灯火通明的市场。灯笼摇曳着一朵不确定的玫瑰，在黑夜抽搐的脸上，当我们在疯狂的舞蹈和歌声中被扫过，——穿过镇上欢乐的小巷，伴随着刺耳的大声笑声，跌跌撞撞地倒下，在急速的拥抱中旋转起来。所有的人，所有的人都在狂欢中摇摆着，摇摆着，笑着，摇晃着，亲吻着所有的人——最疯狂的玩笑把人群弄得凌乱不堪——啊，狂欢的疯狂之夜! Racing along the last mean street that goes From house to house to find the mountain track, I loosed their hands to catch a rose Flung from some casement; swiftly they turned back With gusty laughter their wild mates to greet, Swift as the footless wind along the wheat! Fainter and fainter grew their revelling, Deserted of a sudden, lay the street, Silence fell on me like a famished thing, Making my soul aware of one who stood Beside me--one who wore a monkish hood. I stared, as one who sees Beneath the thin and settled sheet Over still mysteries Faint outline of belovèd hands and feet, Too little loved and now too dead to care, And suddenly becomes aware That more than Death lies there, That from this piteous and submissive change Something has risen, terrible and strange. Why fell my roses? What fear drove me, then, To question him: "Who art thou, citizen? Fainter and fainter grows the Carnival. Wilt thou lock hands and turn with me again?" He answered not, but let the hood half-fall, Showing a thorn-plait on a forehead marred; Trembling I cried: "Who art thou, Lord?" "As thou sayest, I am He! How long upn my cross am I to bleed For thee still to deny me utterly? Is not the hour yet come that I be freed, How long am I to listen at thy door?" Stricken in soul, I fell against his feet, In rose-disorderd street, Weeping: "I have not heard Thy foot before." He answered: "He who hears Loud noise of Carnival about his ears, How shall he heed the foot with silence shod, Or listen for the small still voice of God? What is thy life? Is thy sword stained in any splended strife? Hast thou, in all thy safe, unshaken years, Once thrown thyself upon Night's ambushed spears, Or broken with thy tears Thy heart against the Dawn's feet any day? Hast thou spurned Any earthly perishable sweet thing To bear another's burden? Hast thou learned At any knee but Folly's, trafficing With every sweet delight that said thee 'yea'? Oft hast thy goaded men to kiss thy mouth, The flower of thy youth Thou hast rendered up to any wind that's fleet, But hast thou ever hastened to the Cross To kiss My saving feet?" "Thou knowest, Lord, thou knowest, I have not striven, I made life easy, profitable, sweet, I have not loved much or been much forgiven; Of all a woman's vows the holiest-- To children that were posies at my breast-- I have forsworn, to-night, forsaking all The ways of God to dance at Carnival. What have I now to offer Thee Who deignest To seek for grape on such unfruitful vine; Who with such sinful head Thy bosom stainest!" He said: "The last allegiance will be Mine, Leave all and follow Me." "Nay but my little children sleep at home Beside their father, I would say good-bye." He answered: "Was there an