当你老了，白发苍苍，睡意朦胧，

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

在炉前打盹，请取下这本诗篇，

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

慢慢吟诵，梦见你当年的双眼

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

那柔美的光芒与青幽的晕影；

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

多少人真情假意，爱过你的美丽，

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

爱过你欢乐而迷人的青春，

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

唯独一人爱你朝圣者的心，

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

爱你日益凋谢的脸上的哀戚；

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

当你佝偻着，在灼热的炉栅边，

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

你将轻轻诉说，带着一丝伤感：

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

逝去的爱，如今已步上高山，

And paced upon the mountains overhead

在密密星群里埋藏它的赧颜。

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.