徐志摩 《半夜深巷琵琶》

又被它从睡梦中惊醒，深夜里的琵琶！
是谁的悲思，
是谁的手指，
像一阵凄风，像一阵惨雨，像一阵落花，
在这夜深深时，
在这睡昏昏时，
挑动着紧促的弦索，乱弹着宫商角只，
和着这深夜，荒街，
柳梢头有残月挂，
啊，半轮的残月，象是破碎的希望他，他
头戴一顶开花帽，
身上带着铁链条，
在光阴的道上疯了似的跳，疯了似的笑，
完了，他说，吹糊你的灯，
她在坟墓的那一边等，
等你去亲吻，等你去亲吻，等你去亲吻！
P’i-pa in Midnight Alley

Hsü Chih-mo



Startled again from dreams by this p’i-pa in depth ofnight!
Whose is the sorrowing
Whose the fingers
That like a chill breeze, a dismal rain, an eddy of falling petals
Through the stillness of night
Through the shades of slumber
Quiver the taut strings, plucking at random note after note
To blend into still night, empty street,
Willow hung with waning moon
—Ah, dying moon’s half-circle, image of fading hope—while he
Of the cap bursting its seams
Of the body iron-chained
Leaps and laughs like a maniac along the path of time.
“It’s over,” he says, “blow out your lamp.”
She waits beyond the grave
Waits for your kiss, waits for your kiss, waits for your kiss.