艾米莉•狄金森
Hope is the thing with feathers
希望是長著羽毛的小鳥
That perches in the soul
棲身于靈魂故里
And sings the tune without the words
它哼著沒有歌詞的小曲兒
And never stops at all
永不停息
And sweetest in the gale is heard
它在狂風中歌唱著快樂
And sore must be the storm
在暴雨里領略著險惡
That could abash the little bird
猛烈的暴風雨讓它品嘗著不安
That kept so many warm
而它還是感到幾多溫暖
Ive heard it in the chilliest land
我聽到它鳴唱于最寒冷的陸地
And on the strangest sea
或者在最陌生的海洋
Yet, never, in extremity
即使陷入絕境
It asked a crumb of me
也未曾向我討要一點兒口糧
(搖曳生香摘)