学习啦【英语诗歌】 编辑：韦彦 发布时间：2016-09-28 15:38:17
我不属于你I am not Yours
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
Everytime you kissed me, I trembled like a child.
Gathering the roses,we sang for the hope。
Your very voice is in my heartbeat, sweeter than my dream.
We were there, in ever lasting bloom.
Roses die, the secret is inside the pain.
Wind are high upon the hill, I cannot hear you.
Come and hold me close; I'm shivering cold in the heart of rain.
Darkness falls; I'm calling for the dawn.
Silver dishes for the memories for the days gone by.
Singing for the promises tomorrow may bring,
I harbour all the old affection, roses of the past.
They're both convinced
that a sudden passion joined them.
Such certainty is beautiful,
but uncertainty is more beautiful still.
Since they'd never met before, they're sure
that there'd been nothing between them.
But what's the word from the street staircase hallways—
perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?
I want to ask them
if they don't remember—
a moment face to face
in some revolving door?
perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?
a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver?—
but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.
They'd be amazed to hear
that Chance has been toying with them
now for years.
Not quite ready yet
to become their Destiny,
it pushed them close, drove them apart,
it barred their path,
stifling a laugh,
and then leaped aside.
There were signs and signal
even if they couldn't read them yet.
Perhaps three years ago
or just last Tuesday
a certain leaf fluttered
from one shoulder to another?
Something was dropped and then picked up.
Who know maybe the ball that vanished
into childhood's thicket?
There were doorknobs and doorbells
where one touch had covered another
Suitcases checked and standing side by side.
One night, perhap the same dream,
grown hazy by morning.
is only a sequel, after all,
and the book of events
is always open halfway through.