As often as I murmur here

在这儿，每当我出声吟咏

 My half-formed melodies,

 还没有写完的诗章，

Straight from her osier mansion near,

旁边的斑鸠，在柳条笼子中，

 The Turtledove replies:

 便应声咕咕低唱；

Though silent as a leaf before,

它本来像树叶一样静默，

 The captive promptly coos;

 此刻却咕咕不停；

Is it to teach her own soft lore,

是教唱柔和歌曲？是给我

 Or second my weak Muse?

 贫乏的诗才助兴？

I rather think the gentle Dove

我却猜想：这温顺鸣禽

 Is murmuring a reproof,

 咕哝着把我责备，

Displeased that I from lays of love

嗔怪我只会别的调门，

 Have dared to keep aloof;

 爱的歌曲却不会；

That I, a Bard of hill and dale,

它嗔怪我这山野歌手

 Have carolled, fancy free,

 歌唱时心中没有爱，

As if nor dove nor nightingale

斑鸠、夜莺的情意与歌喉

 Had heart or voice for me.

 都被我置之度外。 

鸟儿呵！你若是这个意思，

If such thy meaning, O forbear,

 可不该把我诬枉；

 Sweet Bird! to do me wrong;

爱，崇高的爱，这主旨

Love, blessed Love, is everywhere

 贯穿我全部篇章；

 The spirit of my song:

 欧洲人认为，斑鸠和夜莺的歌曲都是倾诉爱情的。

'Mid grove, and by the calm fireside,

在宁静炉边，在园林幽处，

 Love animates my lyre—

 爱拨动我的琴弦——

That coo again!—'tis not to chide,

又咕咕叫了！——这回我听出

 I feel, but to inspire.

 那不是责备，是嘉勉。