by Lord Alfred Tennyson
I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:
I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;
Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.
I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
我不嫉妒笼中的小鸟
我不嫉妒笼中的小鸟——
这缺少高贵怒火的囚徒，
无情地将自己禁锢，
从来也不懂盛夏森林里的奇妙；
我不嫉妒肆意妄为的野兽——
只知在自己的领地里放纵无度，
从不因罪恶感而有所收敛约束，
更不曾因良心发现而忧愁；
我从不嫉妒从未盟誓过的心——
尽管它自认幸福，
却只在怠惰的杂草中朽腐，
不懂得如何挽救自身的贫乏。
不论何事降临，我确信，
在最悲痛的时候我也这样认为：
宁愿爱过而失去，
也远远胜于从未爱过。
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