片，斜对着太阳的话简直连个影子都不会有似的。孩子冷眼看着，发觉爸爸只顾朝一个方向走去，脚下绝不肯有半点偏离。车道上拴过马，有一堆新鲜马粪，爸爸明明只要挪一挪脚步，就可以让过，可是他看见那只不灵便的脚却偏偏不偏不斜一脚踩在粪堆里。不过那种安心而欢喜的感觉过了片刻就又恢复了。他一路走去，简直叫这座宅第给迷上了，这么一座宅第给他的话他也要的，不过没有的话他也并不眼红，并不伤心，更不会像前面那一位那样——他不知道前面那个穿着铁甲般的黑外套的人，却是妒火中烧，真恨不得一口吞下肚去呢。孩子这时候的心情，可惜他也无法用言语来表白：或许爸爸也会感受到这股魔力呢。他先前干那号事，可能也是身不由己，或许这一下就可以叫他改一改了。

诗歌

To Helen

Edgar Allan Poe

Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore

To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home

To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.

Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which

Are Holy Land!

海伦，你的美在我的眼里， 有如往日尼西亚的三桅船 船行在飘香的海上，悠悠地 把已倦于漂泊的困乏船员 送回他故乡的海岸。 早已习惯于在怒海上飘荡， 你典雅的脸庞，你的鬈发， 你水神般的风姿带我返航， 返回那往时的希腊和罗马， 返回那往时的壮丽和辉煌。 看哪！壁龛似的明亮窗户里，

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我看见你站着，多像尊雕像， 一盏玛瑙的灯你拿在手上！ 塞姬女神哪，神圣的土地

才是你家乡！

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening[雪夜林边小驻]

Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know, 我知道林子的主人是谁，

His house is in the village though. 虽村落是他所居之地。

He will not see me stopping here, 他不会看到我停留于此，

To watch his woods fill up with snow. 凝视他的林子雪花纷飞。

My little horse must think it queer, 我的小马一定以我为怪，

To stop without a farmhouse near, 近无房舍，为何停伫。

Between the woods and frozen lake, 况只有林子与冰湖，

The darkest evening of the year. 和一年中最黑之夜。

He gives his harness bells a shake, 他轻摇铃具，

To ask if there is some mistake. 询问有错与否。

The only other sound's the sweep, 唯一的回复来自，

Of easy wind and downy flake. 软雪和清风。

The woods are lovely, dark and deep. 林子很美——昏暗而幽深，

But I have promises to keep, 但我已有约定。

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The Waking

Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,

And learn by going where I have to go. Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how? The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair; I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Great Nature has another thing to do To you and me; so take the lively air, And, lovely, learn by going where to go. This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go

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