从漠漠长空胸怀里逸出，

Out of the bosom of the Air,

摆脱了天上云衣层层叠叠，

      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

向着枯黄而光秃的林木，

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

向着收割后的荒凉田野，

      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

无声，舒缓，柔和：

            Silent, and soft, and slow

雪花飘落。

            Descends the snow.

像我们的悬想，暧昧朦胧，

Even as our cloudy fancies take

骤然之间凝成了神妙词句；

      Suddenly shape in some divine expression,

像忧郁的心灵，以苍白面容

Even as the troubled heart doth make

把重重心事披露出去：

      In the white countenance confession,

忧郁的天穹在倾诉

            The troubled sky reveals

内心的悲苦。

            The grief it feels.

这是天穹挥洒的诗篇，

This is the poem of the air,

从容舒缓，用无声的音节写就；

      Slowly in silent syllables recorded;

这是“绝望”的秘密，长时间

This is the secret of despair,

藏在它浓云密布的心头，

      Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,

现在才低声吐露：

            Now whispered and revealed

向田野，向林木。

            To wood and field.