Out of the bosom of the Air,

从漠漠长空胸怀里逸出，

      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

摆脱了天上云衣层层叠叠，

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

向着枯黄而光秃的林木，

      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

向着收割后的荒凉田野，

            Silent, and soft, and slow

无声，舒缓，柔和：

            Descends the snow.

雪花飘落。

Even as our cloudy fancies take

像我们的悬想，暧昧朦胧，

      Suddenly shape in some divine expression,

骤然之间凝成了神妙词句；

Even as the troubled heart doth make

像忧郁的心灵，以苍白面容

      In the white countenance confession,

把重重心事披露出去：

            The troubled sky reveals

忧郁的天穹在倾诉

            The grief it feels.

内心的悲苦。

This is the poem of the air,

这是天穹挥洒的诗篇，

      Slowly in silent syllables recorded;

从容舒缓，用无声的音节写就；

This is the secret of despair,

这是“绝望”的秘密，长时间

      Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,

藏在它浓云密布的心头，

            Now whispered and revealed

现在才低声吐露：

            To wood and field.

向田野，向林木。