I bade, because the wick and oil are spent
And frozen are the channels of the blood,
My discontented heart to draw content
From beauty that is cast out of a mould
In bronze, or that in dazzling marble appears,
Appears, but when we have gone is gone again,
Being more indifferent to our solitude
Than ’twere an apparition. O heart, we are old;
The living beauty is for younger men:
We cannot pay its tribute of wild tears.

我請求——因為燈芯和油都已耗盡
而且血液的通路都已凍結——
我這顆不滿足的心且滿足於
那用青銅模子鑄造出來的，
或者顯形於眩眼的大理石中的美，
顯形，但當我們消逝後又再度消逝，
比一個幽靈，更加不關心
我們的孤寂。噢心啊，我們已老；
活生生的美是給更年輕的人的：
我們無法支付它狂野淚水的貢禮。