午夜，我在溪边游荡，忘却我所爱的模样。莱蒂的形象!离开我的心;因为莱蒂并不仁慈。月亮高悬，月光皎洁，一颗星的影子落在塔玛哈的小溪上;但远处的岩石更亮，岩石被悬垂的紫杉枝挡住了我的视线。——我的莱蒂的前额如此闪亮，从她的黑貂毛里闪过，莱蒂的形象!离开我的心;因为莱蒂并不仁慈。我看见一片最苍白的云，向月亮飞去;它越来越亮，越来越亮，飘着不少颜色，直到最后到达月亮跟前:这时，云完全亮了，有一种丰富的琥珀色的光! And so with many a hope I seek And with such joy I find my Lewti; And even so my pale wan cheek Drinks in as deep a flush of beauty! Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind, If Lewti never will be kind. The little cloud-it floats away, Away it goes; away so soon? Alas! it has no power to stay: Its hues are dim, its hues are grey-- Away it passes from the moon! How mournfully it seems to fly, Ever fading more and more, To joyless regions of the sky-- And now 'tis whiter than before! As white as my poor cheek will be, When, Lewti! on my couch I lie, A dying man for love of thee. Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-- And yet, thou didst not look unkind. I saw a vapour in the sky, Thin, and white, and very high; I ne'er beheld so thin a cloud: Perhaps the breezes that can fly Now below and now above, Have snatched aloft the lawny shroud Of Lady fair--that died for love. For maids, as well as youths, have perished From fruitless love too fondly cherished. Nay, treacherous image! leave my mind-- For Lewti never will be kind. Hush! my heedless feet from under Slip the crumbling banks for ever: Like echoes to a distant thunder, They plunge into the gentle river. The river-swans have heard my tread, And startle from their reedy bed. O beauteous birds! methinks ye measure Your movements to some heavenly tune! O beauteous birds! 'tis such a pleasure To see you move beneath the moon, I would it were your true delight To sleep by day and wake all night. I know the place where Lewti lies When silent night has closed her eyes: It is a breezy jasmine-bower, The nightingale sings o'er her head: Voice of the Night! had I the power That leafy labyrinth to thread, And creep, like thee, with soundless tread, I then might view her bosom white Heaving lovely to my sight, As these two swans together heave On the gently-swelling wave. Oh! that she saw me in a dream, And dreamt that I had died for care; All pale and wasted I would seem Yet fair withal, as spirits are! I'd die indeed, if I might see Her bosom heave, and heave for me! Soothe, gentle image! soothe my mind! To-morrow Lewti may be kind.