Hence, viper thoughts, that coil around my mind,
從此，真實黑色的夢
Reality’s dark dream!
如毒蛇般的思想盤繞在我心中
I turn from you, and listen to the wind,
我遠離你，聽著被遺忘的風
Which long has raved unnoticed. What a scream
呼嘯而過，悄悄地，
Of agony by torture lengthened out
帶著極度痛苦折磨無限延續
That lute sent forth! Thou Wind, that rav’st without,
那種詩琴繼續彈奏！風兒啊，你猛烈地吹
Bare crag, or mountain-tarn, or blasted tree,
你猛烈地吹著峭壁、冰山、 枯萎的樹
Or pine-grove whither woodman never comb,
或者園丁從不修剪的鳳梨樹
Or lonely house, long held the witches’ home,
以及荒廢已久以前是女巫之家的屋子
Methinks were fitter instruments for thee,
而我認為你更適合絲絃樂器
Mad Lutanist! who in this month of showers,
像是瘋狂的彈琴者！淋著月之雨
Of dark-brown gardens, and of peeping flowers,
屬於黑褐色花園， 種著驚洪一瞥的花朵
Mak’st Devils’ Yule, with worse than wintry song,
使惡魔的聖誕節，奏著比冬之冽歌還要不入耳的音樂
The blossoms, buds, and timorous leaves among.
在花開，花苞，潰敗落葉之間
Thou Actor, perfect in all tragic sounds!
演員啊！你悲劇式的聲音何等完美
Thou mighty Poet, even to frenzy bold!
大有能力的詩人啊！你超越了狂熱大膽
What tell’st thou now about?
你現在會怎麼形容這一切呢？
’Tis of the rushing of an host in rout,
直到風之軍隊潰敗
With groans of trampled men, with smarting wounds—
像是痛苦呻吟的士兵，身上傷痕累累
At once they groan with pain, and shudder with the cold!
他們痛苦地呻吟，在冷酷中顫抖
But hush! there is a pause of deepest silence!
噓！忽然間來了一個最深沉寂靜的沉默
And all that noise, as of a rushing crowd,
所有那些像是群眾呼喊的噪音，
With groans, and tremulous shudderings—all is over—
帶有呻吟、身體打顫的聲音──通通都消失─
It tells another tale, with sounds less deep and loud!
再一次述說另一個傳說，以較不深沉吵鬧的聲音
A tale of less affright,
以及一個比較少驚懼的傳說
And tempered with delight,
反倒是擁有快樂普遍的一面
As Otway’s self had framed the tender lay,
像是歐特威本人寫了一首抒情短詩
’Tis of a little child
關於小孩子的。
Upon a lonesome wild,
在一個孤寂的曠野裡
Not far from home, but she hath lost her way:
雖然離家不遠了，可是她迷路了
And now moans low in bitter grief and fear,
現在，痛苦恐懼交雜的低沉呻吟
And now screams loud, and hopes to make her mother hear.
以及尖叫、希望矛盾的情結在他母親耳邊不停響起。