艾米莉·狄金森

Nobody knows this little Rose—

It might a pilgrim be

Did I not take it from the ways

And lift it up to thee.

Only a Bee will miss it—

Only a Butterfly，

Hastening from far journey—

On its breast to lie—

Only a Bird will wonder—

Only a Breeze will sigh—

Ah Little Rose—how easy

For such as thee to die！

沒有人知道這枝小小薔薇——

若不是我把它 摘下獻(xiàn)給你

它依舊會在路邊。

象個(gè)朝圣者，花開寂寂

僅有一只蜜蜂會思念它——

僅有一只蝴蝶

經(jīng)過遙遠(yuǎn)的旅程，匆匆飛來——

在它的花蕊中停歇——

僅有鳥兒會驚奇——

僅有微風(fēng)會嘆息——

唉，這枝小小薔薇，同你一樣

這么容易枯萎至死！