The Last Leaf

　　Oliver Wendell Holmes

　　I saw him once before,

　　As he passed by the door,

　　And again

　　The pavement stones resound,

　　As he totters o'er the ground

　　With his cane.

　　They say that in his prime,

　　Ere the pruning-knife of Time

　　Cut him down,

　　Not a better man was found

　　By the Crier on his round

　　Through the town.

　　But now he walks the streets,

　　And he looks at all he meets

　　Sad and wan,

　　And he shakes his feeble head,

　　That it seems as if he said,

　　"They are gone!"

　　The mossy marbles rest

　　On the lips that he has prest

　　In their bloom,

　　And the names he loved to hear

　　Have been carved for many a year

　　On the tomb.

　　My grandmamma has said--

　　Poor old lady, she is dead

　　Long ago--

　　That he had a Roman nose,

　　And his cheek was like a rose

　　In the snow;

　　But now his nose is thin,

　　And it rests upon his chin

　　Like a staff,

　　And a crook is in his back,

　　And a melancholy crack

　　In his laugh.

　　I know it is a sin

　　For me to sit and grin

　　At him here;

　　But the old three-cornered hat,

　　And the breeches, and all that,

　　Are so queer!

　　And if I should live to be

　　The last leaf upon the tree

　　In the spring,

　　Let them smile, as I do now,

　　At the old forsaken bough

　　Where I cling.

　　最后的葉片

　　奧利弗·溫德爾·霍姆斯

　　他曾從門前經過，

　　我在一旁觀望；

　　如今，石板路又噠噠作響，

　　他蹣跚走來，

　　手里拄著拐杖。

　　人們說他當時年輕力壯，

　　時光的剪刀雖有銳利鋒芒，

　　尚未削去他的青春模樣；

　　周圍的人們有口皆碑，

　　滿城數他最為善良。

　　如今，他卻在街頭流浪，

　　看著別人的面孔，憔悴憂傷；

　　虛弱的腦袋，不斷搖晃，

　　似乎在說；

　　“他們已不在世上”

　　他曾熱吻過的姑娘，

　　就在這墓中安葬；

　　一塊生苔的石碑，立在墓旁，

　　刻著他所愛慕的芳名，

　　歲月悠長。

　　我年邁的祖母久已過世，

　　話音還在耳邊回蕩；

　　說他長著高高的鼻梁，

　　說他的面頰像一朵玫瑰，

　　在雪中綻放。

　　可是現在，

　　他的鼻子干癟瘦長，

　　貼近下巴像纖細的棍棒；

　　彎腰駝背，

　　沙啞的笑聲帶著不盡的凄涼。

　　坐著笑看他的模樣，

　　一種負罪的感覺在我心底隱藏；

　　可那破舊的尖頂小帽，

　　還有馬褲，所有的衣裝，

　　實在是奇形怪狀！

　　假如我的生命十分久長，

　　能夠成為最后的葉片掛在春天的樹上，

　　讓人們沖著我懸掛的殘枝發笑吧，

　　就像我現在這樣，

　　盡管那殘枝久已被人們淡忘！