Without all bail shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review
The very part was consecrate to thee:
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms, my body being dead,
The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to be remembered.
The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.
但是放心吧:當那無情的拘票
終于絲毫不寬假地把我?guī)ё撸?/p>
我的生命在詩里將依然長保,
永生的紀念品,永久和你相守。
當你重讀這些詩,就等于重讀
我獻給你的至純無二的生命:
塵土只能有它的份,那就是塵土;
靈魂卻屬你,這才是我的真身。
所以你不過失掉生命的糟粕
(當我肉體死后),惡蛆們的食餌,
無賴的刀下一個怯懦的俘獲,
太卑賤的穢物,不配被你記憶。
它唯一的價值就在它的內蘊,
那就是這詩:這詩將和它長存。