《On Death》by John Keats (1795-1821 / London / England) __ 江紹倫譯

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain’s to die.

How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake.

《死亡》  約翰‧濟慈                            

當生命是夢死亡可能是睡眠嗎
幸福的歡樂可是幻影的過去
瞬間的愉悅似是過眼雲煙
我們卻確認死亡是最大的痛苦

人生在世要流浪是一樁奇事
要渡過一些悲慘也不願拋棄
一路坎坷也不敢靜自思量
將來的死只是一種醒覺

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