Out of the way, in a corner of our dear old attic room,
走向那邊角落,古老親切的,閣樓臺階,
Where bunches of herbs from the hillside shake ever a faint perfume,
山坡上采的藥草,依然散發(fā)清淡芬芳,
An oaken chest is standing,
橡木衣柜,靜靜地矗立,
With hasp and padlock and key,
搭扣掛鎖鑰匙,一應(yīng)俱全,
Strong as the hands that made it,
來自海那邊,木匠手藝,
On the other side of the sea.
飽經(jīng)滄桑,還是當年模樣。
When the winter days are dreary,
冬季光陰,如此抑郁漫長,
And we're out of heart with life,
無精打采,倦怠不斷滋長,
Of its crowding cares aweary,
厭惡世俗,走馬燈辛苦操勞,
And sick of its restless strife,
無休無止,瘋狂的對決較量。
We take a lesson in patience,
不妨學(xué)習,如何能獲得堅韌,
From the attic corner dim,
從那閣樓,縷縷微弱的燈光,
Where the chest still holds its treasures,
歲月依然,珍藏心底美好,
A warder faithful and grim.
守護如一,信仰的雋永篇章。
Robes of an antique fashion,
過時服裝,早已年代久遠,
Linen and lace and silk,
亞麻的、絲綢的,鑲著花邊,
That time has tinted with saffron,
依稀歲月,留下泛黃斑點,
Though once they were white as milk;
曾經(jīng)色澤,那么光亮簇鮮,
Wonderful baby garments,
還有,孩子們漂亮童裝,
Boidered with loving care by fingers that felt the pleasure,
精心描繪,那多新巧圖樣,繡花的手,歡欣地穿針走線,
As they wrought the ruffles fair;
將喜悅美好,縫進衣角褶邊。