They say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes:

你水晶似的明眸向我说：

“Why dost thou love me so, strange lover mine?”

“我对你有什么好处，奇怪的爱人？”

Be sweet, be still! My heart and soul despise

——乖些，别作声；一切都使我的心

All save that antique brute-like faith of thine;

激怒，除了原始野兽的真诚；

And will not bare the secret of their shame

它不愿向你袒示它阴暗的秘密，

To thee whose hand soothe me to slumbers long,

一手招我沉睡的摇篮人；

Nor their black legend write for thee in flame!

也不愿给你看它的火焰写成的经历，

Passion I hate, a spirit does me wrong.

我恨热情，智慧又令我疲病不振；

Let us love gently. Love, from his retreat,

我们默默地相爱吧。暗淡的、潜伏的爱情，

Ambushed and shadowy, bends his fatal bow,

在它的岗位上张着命运的弓，

And I too well his ancient arrows know:

我知道它古老的兵库里那些武器：

Crime, horror, folly. O pale Marguerite,

罪恶、恐怖和疯狂！——-呵，苍白的雏菊！

Thou art as I, a bright sun fallen low,

你不也如我是一轮秋阳，

O my so white, my so cold Marguerite.

呵，我如此纯洁，如此无情的玛格丽？