When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
　　And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
　　And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
　　Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
　　How many loved your moments of glad grace,
　　And loved your beauty with love false or true,
　　But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
　　And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
　　And bending down beside the glowing bars,
　　Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
　　And paced upon the mountains overhead
　　And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
当你老去
　　当你老去，发鬓斑白，睡意渐浓，
　　倦倚着壁炉瞌睡。请取出这本诗集，
　　然后，轻轻地读，追忆那双温柔的眼神。
　　你的眼神，曾经，那样深——
　　深不见底。
　　多少人，追慕过你，当你楚楚动人，
　　他们如此痴迷你的美貌，真心，或者假意。
　　唯有一人，偏爱你圣洁的灵魂；
　　爱你沧桑的脸庞。
　　他会蹲在火炉旁，略带些忧伤，
　　轻声向你叙说，那些褪了色的爱情呵！
　　或在头顶的山间徘徊，
　　或在漫天的繁星里藏身。