by William Butler Yeats （1865-1939）
When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look,
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled,
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.
當妳老了
威廉·巴特勒·葉芝
鄒仲之譯
當妳老了，頭發白了，睡意昏昏，
偎著爐火打著盹，取下這本書，
慢慢讀，夢中回到過去，
過去妳的眼眸溫柔，眼神深沈；
妳的愉快優雅叫多少人愛慕，
他們愛妳的美貌那愛有假有真，
唯獨壹個人愛妳朝聖者的靈魂，
也愛妳滄桑面容蘊含的淒楚；
爐火熊熊，妳佝僂著身軀，
壹縷哀愁，幾聲絮語，愛妳的人去了，
他走行在高高的山崗，
漫天星辰隱藏他的臉龐。