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<p><strong><a>牛群</a></strong></p><br><p>平安夜，时钟十二点，</p><p>“他们现在都跪着。”有位长老说，</p><p>在靠近壁炉的火烬边</p><p>我们舒适地坐进人群里。</p><p>我们想像的画面里</p><p>温顺的牲口居住在草棚</p><p>我们没有丝毫的怀疑</p><p>它们那时正跪在那里</p><p>这些年很少有人会编织</p><p>这么美好的想象！然而，我感觉，</p><p>如果在平安夜有人说</p><p>“走，去看看牛群跪膝，</p><p>在远处峡谷偏僻的农场</p><p>我们童年时熟悉的地方。”</p><p>我会趁着黑夜与他同往，</p><p>带着这一切都是真实的希望。</p><br><p>作者 / [英国] 托马斯·哈代</p><p>翻译 / Phil</p><br><br><p><strong><a>The Oxen</a></strong></p><br><p>Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.</p><p>“Now they are all on their knees,”</p><p>An elder said as we sat in a flock</p><p>By the embers in hearthside ease.</p><p>We pictured the meek mild creatures where</p><p>They dwelt in their strawy pen,</p><p>Nor did it occur to one of us there</p><p>To doubt they were kneeling then.</p><p>So fair a fancy few would weave</p><p>In these years! Yet, I feel,</p><p>If someone said on Christmas Eve,</p><p>“Come; see the oxen kneel,</p><p>“In the lonely barton by yonder coomb</p><p>Our childhood used to know,”</p><p>I should go with hi...