You did not walk with me
Of late to the hill-top tree
By the gated ways,
As in earlier days;
You were weak and lame,
So you never came,
And I went alone, and I did not mind,
Not thinking of you as left behind.
I walked up there to-day
Just in the former way;
Surveyed around
The familiar ground
By myself again;
What difference, then?
Only that underlying sense
Of the look of the room on returning
thence.
– Thomas Hardy ( British writer，Jun. 2, 1840 – Jan.11, 1928 )
你近来没有同我一起散步，
走到在山顶生长的那棵树，
沿着长廊似的小道，
像过去的暮暮朝朝；
你身体孱弱行走不便，
不能和我一同上路，
我独自前往，但我毫不介意，
因为你并未觉得你被抛弃在家里。
今天我又一次登上小山，
登临的方式没什么改变；
放眼把四周环顾，
景致我依然谙熟。
仍无人结伴同行：
可是有什么不同？
唯有回家时看到屋子的空荡，
内心隐约涌起的寂寞惆怅。
– 托马斯·哈代（英国作家，1840年6月2日-1928年1月11日）