在线收听请戳这里
《献给你的诗》(Words for You)是由英国演员配上古典音乐朗诵的经典诗集,收益用以资助慈善团体。
Words For You 收录了英国拥有最动人嗓音的12位演员朗读的27首最伟大的诗篇 ，并以古典音乐作为背景。在贝多芬的第8钢琴奏鸣曲（悲怆）下，Joanna Lumley颂读着莎士比亚的第18首十四行诗；罗伯特·勃朗宁的Home Thoughts, From Abroad配上了德沃夏克的第9号交响曲（新世界）......
参与朗读的Alison Steadman说：“我很高兴能成为Words For You的一份子，这是个伟大的想法，它一定能起到推广诗歌的作用”
所有的朗读者都放弃了自己的版税，以为英国慈善机构 I CAN 做出更多的贡献。
豆瓣评分高达9.6
https://music.douban.com/subject/10578425/
全文欣赏（转引仅用于英语学习）
Words for You
01Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 From The Holy Bible (King James Version) Attributed to King Solomon
(read by Geoffrey Palmer) / Music: Vivaldi - Concerto In Due Corix - 2nd movement (excerpt)
选自《圣经·旧约》传道书第三章一至八节
King James Version of the Bible，简称KJV，钦定版圣经，1611年出版。钦定版圣经是由英王詹姆斯一世的命令下翻译的，所以有些中文称之为英王钦定版、詹姆士王译本或英王詹姆士王译本等。
朗读者：Geoffrey Palmer
To everything there is a season, and
a time to every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, and
a time to die;
a time to plant, and
a time to pluck up
that which is planted;
A time to kill, and
a time to heal;
a time to break down, and
a time to build up;
A time to weep, and
a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and
a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and
a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and
a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and
a time to lose;
a time to keep, and
a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and
a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and
a time to speak;
A time to love, and
a time to hate;
a time of war; and
a time of peace.
搜索时发现的：在老爸老妈浪漫史“Big Days”开头第26秒处镜头移动过程中出现了一个牌子，上面写的正是“To Everything There Is A Season”。
参考中译：
凡事都有定期，
天下万物都有定时。
生有时，死有时；
栽种有时，拔出所栽种的也有时；
杀戮有时，医治有时；
拆毁有时，建造有时；
哭有时，笑有时；
哀恸有时，跳舞有时；
抛掷石头有时，堆聚石头有时；
怀抱有时，不怀抱有时；
寻找有时，失落有时；
保守有时，舍弃有时；
撕裂有时，缝补有时；
静默有时，言语有时；
喜爱有时，恨恶有时；
争战有时，和好有时。
02Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare (read by Joanna Lumley) / Music: Beethoven - Piano Sonata No.8 (excerpt)
Sonnet 18 –William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate;
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
莎士比亚14行诗第18首 朗读者Joanna Lumley
我怎么能够把你来比作夏天？
你不独比它可爱也比它温婉：
狂风把五月宠爱的嫩蕊作践，
夏天出赁的期限又未免太短：
天上的眼睛有时照得太酷烈，
它那炳耀的金颜又常遭掩蔽：
被机缘或无常的天道所摧折，
没有芳艳不终于雕残或销毁。
但是你的长夏永远不会雕落，
也不会损失你这皎洁的红芳，
或死神夸口你在他影里漂泊，
当你在不朽的诗里与时同长。
只要一天有人类，或人有眼睛，
这诗将长存，并且赐给你生命。
（梁宗岱译）
我可能把你和夏天相比拟？
你比夏天更可爱更温和：
狂风会把五月的花苞吹落地，
夏天也嫌太短促，匆匆而过：
有时太阳照得太热，
常常又遮暗他的金色的脸；
美的事物总不免要凋落，
偶然的，或是随自然变化而流转。
但是你的永恒之夏不会褪色；
你不会失去你的俊美的仪容；
死神不能夸说你在他的阴影里面走着，
如果你在这不朽的诗句里获得了永生；
只要人们能呼吸，眼睛能看东西，
此诗就会不朽，使你永久生存下去。
（梁实秋译）
我来将你比作夏天吗?
你比夏天更为可爱,更为温和:
暴风摇落五月的柔嫩花芽,
夏季的租赁期限要短得多:
有的时候太阳照得太热,
他的金色面孔常变阴暗;
每种美有时都会凋零衰谢,
由于机缘,或者由于自然变幻;
但是你的永久夏季不会衰败,
你的美也永远不会丧失;
死亡不至夸口:你在他的阴影里徘徊,
当你在不朽的诗行中度日:——
只要人还能呼吸，眼睛还能看望，
这些诗行就会永存，使你万寿无疆。
（李霁野译）
我来比你作夏天，好不好？
不，你比它更可爱，更温和：
暮春的娇花有暴风侵扰，
夏住在人间的时日不多：
有时候天之目亮得太凌人，
他的金容常被云霾掩蔽，
有时因了意外，四季周行，
今天的美明天已不再美丽：
你的永存之夏却不黄萎，
你的美丽亦将长寿万年，
你不会死，死神无从夸嘴，
因为你的名字入了诗篇：
一天还有人活着，有眼睛，
你的名字便将于此常新。
（朱湘译）
能不能让我把你比拟作夏日？
你可是更加温和，更加可爱：
狂风会吹落五月的好花儿，
夏季的生命又未免结束得太快：
有时候苍天的巨眼照得太灼热，
他那金彩的脸色也会被遮暗；
每一样美呀，总会离开美而凋落，
被时机或者自然的代谢所摧残；
但是你永久的夏天决不会凋枯，
你永远不会失去你美的仪态；
死神夸不着你在他影子里踯躅，
你将在不朽的诗中与时间同在；
只要人类在呼吸，眼睛看得见，
我这诗就活着，使你的生命绵延。
（屠岸译）
http://www.douban.com/group/topic/27781016/
03Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning(read by Geoffrey Palmer) / Music: Dvorak - Symphony No.9 (excerpt)
O, TO be in England
Now that April 's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—
That 's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
参考中译：
海外相思
啊，但愿此刻身在英格兰，趁这四月天，
一个早晨醒来，谁都会突然发观：
榆树四周低矮的枝条和灌木丛中，
小小的嫩叶已显出一片葱茏，
听那苍头燕雀正在果园里唱歌，
在英格兰啊，在此刻!
四月过去，五月接踵来到，
燕子都在衔泥,白喉鸟在筑巢!
我园中倚向篱笆外的梨树
把如雨的花瓣和露珠
洒满了树枝之下的苜蓿田；
聪明的鸫鸟在那儿唱，把每支歌都唱两遍，
为了免得你猜想：它不可能重新捕捉
第一遍即兴唱出的美妙欢乐!
尽管露水笼罩得田野灰白暗淡，
到中午一切又将喜气盎然，
苏醒的毛茛花是孩子们的“嫁妆”，
这华而俗的甜瓜花哪儿比得上它灿烂明亮!
（飞白译）
勃朗宁与勃朗宁夫人：http://www.douban.com/photos/photo/1426355208/
罗伯特·勃朗宁（1812-1889），和丁尼生是维多利亚时代的诗人。另有一首童话诗《汉姆琳的花衣吹笛人》，情节有趣，表现了他运用声韵的能力。这个故事源自德国的民间，最有名的版本收在格林兄弟的《德国传说》（Deutsche Sagen）中，名为《哈默尔恩的孩子》(Die Kinder zu Hameln)。
04Friendship by Elizabeth Jennings (read by Alison Steadman) / Music: Beethoven - Piano Concerto No.5 - 2nd Movement (excerpt)
Such love I cannot analyse;
It does not rest in lips or eyes,
Neither in kisses nor caress.
Partly, I know, it’s gentleness
And understanding in one word
Or in brief letters. It’s preserved
By trust and by respect and awe.
These are the words I’m feeling for.
Two people, yes, two lasting friends.
The giving comes, the taking ends
There is no measure for such things.
For this all Nature slows and sings.
伊丽莎白·詹宁斯（Elizabeth Jennings，1926-2001），英国当代著名女诗人。
1926年出生于林肯郡，六岁时随父母迁居牛津，之后在牛津度过一生。从牛津圣安妮学院毕业后，曾就职于广告业和牛津市图书馆，后专事写作。上世纪中期与菲利普·拉金、金斯利·艾米斯、汤姆·冈等诗人一道成为战后英国著名诗歌流派“运动派”主要成员，为上世纪英国最受欢迎的诗人之一。詹宁斯一生多产，曾出版诗集20多部，主要作品有：《打量的方式》（1956）（此书曾获萨姆塞特·毛姆奖），《世界的感觉》（1958）、《生死之歌》（1961）、《痊愈》（1964）、《精神里有山脉》（1966）、《关系》（1972）、《优雅时刻》（1980）、《新诗全集1953-2001》（2002）及评论文集《每一个变化的形态》等。曾获W.H.史密斯文学奖（1987）及C.B.E奖。2001年在牛津去世。
http://www.poemlife.com/transhow-48278-1425.htm
05A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns (read by Brian Cox) / Music: Austin Ince & Frankie Hepburn - Colonel Robertson (excerpt)
A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
我的爱人象朵红红的玫瑰
王佐良 译
呵，我的爱人象朵红红的玫瑰，六月里迎风初开；
呵，我的爱人象支甜甜的曲子，奏得合拍又和谐。
我的好姑娘，多么美丽的人儿！
请看我，多么深挚的爱情！
亲爱的，我永远爱你，纵使大海干涸水流尽。
纵使大海干涸水流尽，太阳将岩石烧作灰尘，
亲爱的，我永远爱你，只要我一息犹存。
珍重吧，我惟一的爱人，
珍重吧，让我们暂时别离，
但我定要回来，哪怕千里万里！
一朵红红的玫瑰
袁可嘉 译
啊，我的爱人像一朵红红的玫瑰，
它在六月里初开，
啊，我的爱人像一支乐曲，美妙地演奏起来。
你是那么美, 漂亮的姑娘,我爱你那么深切；
亲爱的, 我会永远爱你，一直到四海枯竭。
亲爱的, 直到四海枯竭,到太阳把岩石烧裂！
我会永远爱你，亲爱的只要是生命不绝。
我唯一的爱人，我向你告别，
我和你小别片刻；
我要回来的，亲爱的，即使万里相隔！
罗伯特·彭斯（Robert Burns，1759—1796）苏格兰农民诗人，Scotland's favourite son。《友谊地久天长》（auld lang syne）即改编自他的诗歌。
06I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud by William Wordsworth (read by Honor Blackman) / Music: Tchaikovsky - Piano Concerto No.1 - 2nd Movement (excerpt)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
我好似一朵孤独的流云，
高高地飘游在山谷之上，
突然我看见一大片鲜花，
是金色的水仙遍地开放，
它们开在湖畔，开在树下，
它们随风嬉舞，随风波荡。
它们密集如银河的星星，
像群星在闪烁一片晶莹，
它们沿着海湾向前伸展，
通往远方仿佛无穷无尽；
一眼看去就有千朵万朵，
万花摇首舞得多么高兴。
粼粼湖波也在近旁欢跳，
却不如这水仙舞得轻俏；
诗人遇见这快乐的旅伴，
又怎能不感到欣喜雀跃；
我久久凝视－－却未领悟
这景象所给我的精神至宝。
后来多少次我郁郁独卧，
感到百无聊赖心灵空漠；
这景象便在脑海中闪现，
多少次安慰过我的寂寞；
我的心又随水仙跳起舞来，
我的心又重新充满了欢乐。
湖畔诗人威廉·华兹华斯
07On The Balcony by D.H. Lawrence (read by Anthony Head) / Music: Grieg - Last Spring (excerpt)
IN front of the sombre mountains, a faint, lost ribbon of rainbow;
And between us and it, the thunder;
And down below in the green wheat, the labourers
Stand like dark stumps, still in the green wheat.
You are near to me, and your naked feet in their sandals,
And through the scent of the balcony's naked timber
I distinguish the scent of your hair: so now the limber
Lightning falls from heaven.
Adown the pale-green glacier river floats
A dark boat through the gloom--and whither?
The thunder roars. But still we have each other!
The naked lightnings in the heavens dither
And disappear--what have we but each other?
The boat has gone.
D.H.劳伦斯，20世纪英国作家
08Business Girls by John Betjeman (read by Joanna Lumley) / Music: Business Girls by John Betjeman / Music: Satie - Gymnopedie No.2 (excerpt)
From the geyser ventilators
Autumn winds are blowing down
On a thousand business women
Having baths in Camden Town
Waste pipes chuckle into runnels,
Steam's escaping here and there,
Morning trains through Camden cutting
Shake the Crescent and the Square.
Early nip of changeful autumn,
Dahlias glimpsed through garden doors,
At the back precarious bathrooms
Jutting out from upper floors;
And behind their frail partitions
Business women lie and soak,
Seeing through the draughty skylight
Flying clouds and railway smoke.
Rest you there, poor unbelov'd ones,
Lap your loneliness in heat.
All too soon the tiny breakfast,
Trolley-bus and windy street!
约翰·贝杰曼爵士（Sir John Betjeman，1906–1984年），英国作家和桂冠诗人。因发表《诗集》（Collected Poems）（1958年）而崭露头角。他的诗作在很大程度上是叙述性的，风格传统，大都评述当代的生活或人们对往昔的回忆。贝杰曼成为英国建筑的权威人士，他的诗作经常倡导保护历史遗迹和建筑。
贝杰曼出生在伦敦，1969年受封为爵士，1972年被任命为桂冠诗人。《被钟声唤起》（Summoned by Bells）（1960年）是他用诗歌形式撰写的自传。其他诗作包括：《高和低》（High and Low）（1966年）、《诗集》（Collected Poems）（1971年）、《刺骨寒风》（A Nip in the Air）（1974年）。其他作品包括《维多利亚女王和爱德华七世时期的伦敦》（Victorian and Edwardian London）（1969年）和《图说英国建筑史》（Pictorial History of English Architecture）（1972年）。
他对自己的评价是"poet and hack"。
照片 http://www.douban.com/photos/photo/1460341005/
与他相伴的泰迪熊Archibald Ormsby-Gore
http://www.douban.com/note/258916970/
PS：Brideshead Revisited中的那只熊叫做Aloysius
09To Autumn by John Keats (read by Ben Whishaw) / Music: Borodin - Symphony No.2 - 3rd Movement (excerpt)
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
秋颂
1
雾气洋溢、果实圆熟的秋，
你和成熟的太阳成为友伴；
你们密谋用累累的珠球，
缀满茅屋檐下的葡萄藤蔓；
使屋前的老树背负着苹果，
让熟味透进果实的心中，
使葫芦胀大，鼓起了榛子壳，
好塞进甜核；又为了蜜蜂
一次一次开放过迟的花朵，
使它们以为日子将永远暖和，
因为夏季早填满它们的粘巢。
2
谁不经常看见你伴着谷仓？
在田野里也可以把你找到，
弥有时随意坐在打麦场上，
让发丝随着簸谷的风轻飘；
有时候，为罂粟花香所沉迷，
你倒卧在收割一半的田垄，
让镰刀歇在下一畦的花旁；
或者．像拾穗人越过小溪，
你昂首背着谷袋，投下倒影，
或者就在榨果架下坐几点钟，
你耐心地瞧着徐徐滴下的酒浆。
3
啊，春日的歌哪里去了？但不要
想这些吧，你也有你的音乐——
当波状的云把将逝的一天映照，
以胭红抹上残梗散碎的田野，
这时啊，河柳下的一群小飞虫
就同奏哀音，它们忽而飞高，
忽而下落，随着微风的起灭；
篱下的蟋蟀在歌唱，在园中
红胸的知更鸟就群起呼哨；
而群羊在山圈里高声默默咩叫；
丛飞的燕子在天空呢喃不歇。
（查良铮译）
10 Sonnets From The Portuguese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (read by Lindsay Duncan) / Music: Mozart - Symphony No.50 - 3rd Movement (excerpt)
Number 43
How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
葡萄牙人十四行诗（43）
我究竟怎样爱你？让我细数端详。
我爱你直到我灵魂所及的深度、
广度和高度，我在视力不及之处
摸索着存在的极致和美的理想。
我爱你像最朴素的日常需要一样，
就像不自觉地需要阳光和蜡烛。
我自由地爱你，像人们选择正义之路
我纯洁地爱你，像人们躲避称赞颂扬。
我爱你用的是我在昔日的悲痛里
用过的那种激情．以及童年的忠诚。
我爱你用的爱，我本以为早巳失去，
（与我失去的圣徒一同）；我爱你用笑容、
眼泪、呼吸和生命！只要上帝允许，
在死后我爱你将只会更加深情。
（飞白译）
43
我是怎样地爱你？让我逐一细算。
我爱你尽我的心灵所能及到的
深邃、宽广、和高度－－正象我探求
玄冥中上帝的存在和深厚的神恩。
我爱你的程度，就象日光和烛焰下
那每天不用说得的需要。我不加思虑地
爱你，就象男子们为正义而斗争；
我纯洁地爱你，象他们在赞美前低头。
我爱你以我童年的信仰；我爱你
以满怀热情，就象往日满腔的辛酸；
我爱你，抵得上那似乎随着消失的圣者
而消逝的爱慕。我爱你以我终生的
呼吸，微笑和泪珠－－假使是上帝的
意旨，那么，我死了我还要更加爱你！
（方平译）
《葡萄牙人十四行诗集》
勃郎宁夫人，英国维多利亚时代女诗人。
11 If by Rudyard Kipling (read by Martin Shaw) / Music: Verdi - La Forza Del Destino (excerpt)
If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!
吉卜林（Rudyard Kipling，1865-1936）英国小说家、诗人。生于印度孟买，作品充满异国情调。《如果》是他写给12岁儿子的诗。在1995年BBC的“英国人最喜爱的诗”的民意调查中，这首立意于克制主义和淡泊主义的诗被选为吉卜林最著名的诗。
译：《如果》- 拉迪亚德·吉卜林
12 Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Mary Frye (read by Miriam Margolyes) / Music: Tchaikovosky - Variations on a Rocco Theme Op.33 (excerpt)
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
我不在这里，
不要站在坟墓旁边叹息流泪，
因为我不在这里，
我也没有睡着。
我是扬起了千千遍的风，
我是雪地上闪烁的白光，
我是拂照着田野的太阳，
我是秋天里温柔的风，
我是夜空的星星，
不要在我坟前哭泣，
我不在这里，我没有消逝。
此段话作者名字及写作时间已经不详，但最有根据的是在1932年，在美国马里兰州巴尔的摩市，一位名为Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004) 的主妇，为了同居友人Margaret Schwarzkopf的母亲过世而写的作品。诗本身并无名字，一般人就以其第一句「Do not stand at my grave and weep」来命名。诗的原意是纪念逝去的近亲，在95年，英国一名青年在爱尔兰共和军袭击下牺牲，临死前把一封信交给父母，请他们在他离世后打开，信内就是这一首诗，经过传媒的报导后，得到广泛的回响。而到了2001年，美国的911恐怖袭击事件后，在一个追悼仪式中，1名11岁的少女在会中读出此诗，以表达她对在911事件中丧生的父亲的追思，使此诗再一次成为话题。
http://www.douban.com/group/topic/26988737/
Origins
Mary Frye, who was living in Baltimore at the time, wrote the poem in 1932. She had never written any poetry, but the plight of a young German Jewish woman, Margaret Schwarzkopf, who was staying with her and her husband, inspired the poem. Margaret Schwarzkopf had been concerned about her mother, who was ill in Germany, but she had been warned not to return home because of increasing anti-Semitic unrest. When her mother died, the heartbroken young woman told Frye that she never had the chance to “stand by my mother’s grave and shed a tear”. Frye found herself composing a piece of verse on a brown paper shopping bag. Later she said that the words “just came to her” and expressed what she felt about life and death.
Mary Frye circulated the poem privately, never publishing or copyrighting it. She wrote other poems, but this, her first, endured. Her obituary in The Times made it clear that she was the author of the famous poem, which has been recited at funerals and on other appropriate occasions around the world for 60 years.
The poem was introduced to many in Britain when it was read by the father of a soldier killed by a bomb in Northern Ireland. The soldier's father read the poem on BBC radio in 1995 in remembrance of his son, who had left the poem among his personal effects in an envelope addressed 'To all my loved ones'. The authorship of the poem was established a few years later after an investigation by journalist Abigail Van Buren.
It has become a very popular poem and a common reading for funerals.
BBC poll
To coincide with National Poetry Day 1995, the British television programme The Bookworm conducted a poll to discover the nation's favourite poems, and subsequently published the winning poems in book form. The book's preface stated that "Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep" was "the unexpected poetry success of the year from Bookworm's point of view"; the poem had "provoked an extraordinary response... the requests started coming in almost immediately and over the following weeks the demand rose to a total of some thirty thousand. In some respects it became the nation's favourite poem by proxy... despite it being outside the competition."This was all the more remarkable, since the name and nationality of the American poet did not become known until several years later. In 2004 The Times wrote: "The verse demonstrated a remarkable power to soothe loss. It became popular, crossing national boundaries for use on bereavement cards and at funerals regardless of race, religion or social status".
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Do_Not_Stand_at_My_Grave_and_Weep
13 Diary Of A Church Mouse by John Betjeman (read by Martin Shaw) / Music: Bach - Sleepers Awake (excerpt)
Here among long-discarded cassocks,
Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks,
Here where the vicar never looks
I nibble through old service books.
Lean and alone I spend my days
Behind this Church of England baize.
I share my dark forgotten room
With two oil-lamps and half a broom.
The cleaner never bothers me,
So here I eat my frugal tea.
My bread is sawdust mixed with straw;
My jam is polish for the floor.
Christmas and Easter may be feasts
For congregations and for priests,
And so may Whitsun. All the same,
They do not fill my meagre frame.
For me the only feast at all
Is Autumn's Harvest Festival,
When I can satisfy my want
With ears of corn around the font.
I climb the eagle's brazen head
To burrow through a loaf of bread.
I scramble up the pulpit stair
And gnaw the marrows hanging there.
It is enjoyable to taste
These items ere they go to waste,
But how annoying when one finds
That other mice with pagan minds
Come into church my food to share
Who have no proper business there.
Two field mice who have no desire
To be baptized, invade the choir.
A large and most unfriendly rat
Comes in to see what we are at.
He says he thinks there is no God
And yet he comes ... it's rather odd.
This year he stole a sheaf of wheat
(It screened our special preacher's seat),
And prosperous mice from fields away
Come in to hear our organ play,
And under cover of its notes
Ate through the altar's sheaf of oats.
A Low Church mouse, who thinks that I
Am too papistical, and High,
Yet somehow doesn't think it wrong
To munch through Harvest Evensong,
While I, who starve the whole year through,
Must share my food with rodents who
Except at this time of the year
Not once inside the church appear.
Within the human world I know
Such goings-on could not be so,
For human beings only do
What their religion tells them to.
They read the Bible every day
And always, night and morning, pray,
And just like me, the good church mouse,
Worship each week in God's own house,
But all the same it's strange to me
How very full the church can be
With people I don't see at all
Except at Harvest Festival.
John Betjeman自己朗读的版本 http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/poetry/outloud/betjeman.shtml
14 Come Walk With Me by Emily Brontë (read by Samantha Morton) / Music: Dvorak - Waltz No.1 from Opus 54 (excerpt)
Come, walk with me,
There's only thee
To bless my spirit now -
We used to love on winter nights
To wander through the snow;
Can we not woo back old delights?
The clouds rush dark and wild
They fleck with shade our mountain heights
The same as long ago
And on the horizon rest at last
In looming masses piled;
While moonbeams flash and fly so fast
We scarce can say they smiled -
Come walk with me, come walk with me;
We were not once so few
But Death has stolen our company
As sunshine steals the dew -
He took them one by one and we
Are left the only two;
So closer would my feelings twine
Because they have no stay but thine -
'Nay call me not - it may not be
Is human love so true?
Can Friendship's flower droop on for years
And then revive anew?
No, though the soil be wet with tears,
How fair soe'er it grew
The vital sap once perished
Will never flow again
And surer than that dwelling dread,
The narrow dungeon of the dead
Time parts the hearts of men
- The Lady Of Shalott by Lord Alfred Tenyson (read by Brian Cox) / Music: Stephen Darrell Smith & Dan Smith - The Great Glen
PART I
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow-veil'd
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott".
PART II
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the 'curse' may be,
And so [6] she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights,
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half-sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
PART III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A redcross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom;
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
PART IV
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
'The Lady of Shalott.'
And down the river's dim expanse--
Like some bold seër in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance--
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right--
The leaves upon her falling light--
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot;
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot;
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
'The Lady of Shalott'
Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott".
http://www.online-literature.com/donne/720/
该故事发生于《亚瑟王和他的圆桌骑士》的时代。夏洛特是一位美丽的女郎，被仙女囚禁在一个城堡里。这个城堡位于一个离亚瑟王王宫不远的一个孤岛上。这个仙女告诉她，亚瑟王王宫有个魔咒将会降祸于她，究竟是什么，没有告诉她。
夏洛特有一面镜子，这面镜子是她生活的重要部分，每天，她在城堡的塔楼上从这面镜子里看身后的世界，这是她唯一与世界沟通的工具。她从镜子里看到进进出出王宫的骑士和平民，也常常看到情侣在河边散步。她就把看到的场景用充满魔力的织布机织成挂毯，边织边歌唱。人们熟悉她的歌声，却从未见过她。
一天，当圆桌骑士中最出色的蓝斯洛（Lancelot）的身影在镜子中出现时，夏洛特疯狂地爱上了蓝斯洛，她决定要去王宫找蓝斯洛，就在她刚刚踏出城堡的门槛的时候，镜子突然碎了，她知道她的厄运就要来临了。为了向往的爱情，她选择了坦然面对，她要乘船划向那个城堡，如果能够见到他心爱的蓝斯洛，对她来说，死不足惜。她把亲手编织的美丽挂毯铺在船上，松开缆绳，唱着生命中最后的歌，任由小船顺流向下游的王宫漂去。她象那条在不知不觉间滑入河流无垠黑暗的小船，踏上了一条不知什么时候结束、会在哪儿终止的死亡之旅。她眺望王宫，等待时间停止的那刻……
诗歌内容参考
http://www.douban.com/note/144421570/
http://site.douban.com/109824/widget/notes/245567/note/102874638/
丁尼生，是华兹华斯之后的英国桂冠诗人，也是英国19世纪著名的诗人之一。其131首的组诗《悼念》被视为英国文学史上最优秀哀歌之一，因而获桂冠诗人称号。其他重要诗作有《尤利西斯》、《伊诺克·阿登》和《过沙洲》诗歌《悼念集》等。
- One Flesh by Elizabeth Jennings (read by Honor Blackman) / Music: One Flesh by Elizabeth Jennings
Lying apart now, each in a separate bed,
He with a book, keeping the light on late,
She like a girl dreaming of childhood,
All men elsewhere - it is as if they wait
Some new event: the book he holds unread,
Her eyes fixed on the shadows overhead.
Tossed up like flotsam from a former passion,
How cool they lie. They hardly ever touch,
Or if they do, it is like a confession
Of having little feeling - or too much.
Chastity faces them, a destination
For which their whole lives were a preparation.
Strangely apart, yet strangely close together,
Silence between them like a thread to hold
And not wind in. And time itself's a feather
Touching them gently. Do they know they're old,
These two who are my father and my mother
Whose fire from which I came, has now grown cold?
- He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by W.B. Yeats (read by Lennie James) / Music: Mahler - Symphony No.3 - 6th Movement (excerpt)
HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
假如我有天国的锦绣绸缎，
那用金色银色的光线织就，
湛蓝、灰暗和漆黑的锦缎，
黑夜、白天、黎明和傍晚，
我就把那锦缎铺在你脚下；
可我，一贫如洗，只有梦；
我把我的梦铺在了你脚下；
轻点，因为你踏着我的梦。
(傅浩译)
- Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare (read by Lennie James) / Music: Mahler - Symphony No.3 - 6th Movement (excerpt)
Sonnet 116
William Shakespeare (1609)
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
让我承认，两颗真心的结合
是阻止不了的。爱算不得爱，
要是人家变心了，它也变得，
或者人家改道了，它也快改：
不呵！爱是永不游移的灯塔光，
它正视风暴，绝不被风暴摇撼；
爱是一颗星，它引导迷途的桅樯，
其高度可测，其价值却无可计算。
爱不是时间的玩偶，虽然红颜
到头来总不被时间的镰刀遗漏；
爱绝不跟随短促的韶光改变，
就到灭亡的边缘，也不低头。
假如我这话真错了，真不可信赖，
算我没写过，算爱从来不存在！
(屠岸译)
- Stop All The Clocks by W.H. Auden (read by Lindsay Duncan) / Music: Mahler - Symphony No.1 - 3rd Movement (excerpt)
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
葬礼蓝调 W.H.奥登 娜斯 译
停止所有的时钟，切断电话
给狗一块浓汁的骨头，让他别叫
黯哑了钢琴，随着低沉的鼓
抬出灵怄，让哀悼者前来。
让直升机在头顶悲旋
在天空狂草着信息他已逝去，
把黑纱系在信鸽的白颈，
让交通员戴上黑色的手套。
他曾经是我的东，我的西，我的南，我的北，
我的工作天，我的休息日，
我的正午，我的夜半，我的话语，我的歌吟，
我以为爱可以不朽：我错了。
不再需要星星，把每一颗都摘掉，
把月亮包起，拆除太阳，
倾泻大海，扫除森林；
因为什么也不会，再有意味。
http://site.douban.com/129821/widget/notes/7244757/note/223015388/
在艾略特之后，出现了W.H.奥登(Wystan Hugh Auden, 1907-1973)、台·路易士·、斯蒂芬·斯本德和路易士·麦克尼斯等在牛津大学受教育的青年诗人，称为“奥登一代”。他们在技巧上受到艾略特的影响，但诗歌内容上却不同，这主要是因为他们生活在英国经济大萧条的年代里，政治上倾向左派，有的还去西班牙作战。
- Adlestrop by Edward Thomas (read by Geoffrey Palmer) / Music: Vaughan Williams - The Lark Ascending (excerpt)
Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
艾德尔索普
是的，我记得艾德尔索普 ——
它的名字，因为在一个天气
很热的下午，特快列车反常地
在那儿停下。那时候是六月底。
蒸汽嘶嘶响。有人清了清喉咙。
没人离开也没人来到空空的
月台上。我所看见的就是
艾德尔索普——只是它的名字
和柳树、柳叶菜，还有青草，
蚊子草，晒干的圆锥形草堆，
同那高高悬在天空的微云
一样宁静，一样有寂寞的美。
就在那一刻附近一只乌鸫
叫起来，在它周围，隐隐
从远处、更远处，从牛津郡
和格洛斯特郡传来百鸟的啼鸣。
译注：艾德尔索普Adlestrop是英国格洛斯特郡一个毗邻牛津郡的村庄。
1917年4月9日，爱德华·托马斯死于第一次世界大战的法国战场，终年39岁。他1878年生于伦敦，1900年毕业于牛津大学，前此一年，同海伦·诺博尔结婚，婚后一共生了三个孩子。早在学生时代，托马斯便决定把写作当成终身的事业，并出版了第一本书；毕业后他全靠写作养家糊口，写了大量评论、散文、传记等作品，在成为诗人之前，已是颇有成就的作家。也许是对诗歌怀有更高的敬畏，也许是受了他的好友、彼时旅居英国的美国诗人佛洛斯特的鼓励，托马斯1914年12月才开始写诗，直到逝世，在三年不到的时间里，一共写了144首诗。虽然托马斯没有被当时主导英国诗坛的“乔治亚朝诗人”阵营所接纳，现在评论家却认为他的诗风“比乔治亚朝诗人还要乔治亚朝”，对后来的“运动派”以及R·S·托马斯、谢默斯·希尼等诗人均有影响。虽然和阿尔弗雷德·欧文等人同被称为“战争诗人”，一起在伦敦西敏寺的诗人角有了一席之地，他却没有留下战场上的诗；战争只是他诗中那些英国乡野背后牵动人心的时代大背景。从题材来说，他是一个小诗人；他的诗真挚、谦逊、安静，但似浅而实深，往往别具韵味。
《Adlestrop》深得英国人民喜爱，生动地描写了乡村的愉悦。时为1914年6月末，托马斯乘火车，由牛津前往伍斯特，途中意外经停小村，名叫Adlestrop。诗人望向窗外，心生灵感，写下了此诗。
- When We Two Parted by Lord Byron (read by Brian Cox) / Music: Tchaikovosky - Symphony No.5 - 2nd Movement (excerpt)
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow—
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:—
Long, long shall I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.
In secret we met—
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?—
With silence and tears.
想从前我们俩分手，
默默无言地流着泪，
预感到多年的隔离，
我们忍不住心碎；
你的脸冰凉、发白，
你的吻更似冷冰，
呵，那一刻正预兆了
我今日的悲痛。
清早凝结着寒露，
冷彻了我的额角，
那种感觉仿佛是
对我此刻的警告。
你的誓言全破碎了，
你的行为如此轻浮：
人家提起你的名字，
我听了也感到羞辱。
他们当着我讲到你，
一声声有如丧钟；
我的全身一阵颤栗－
为什么对你如此情重？
没有人知道我熟识你，
呵，熟识得太过了－
我将长久、长久地悔恨，
这深处难以为外人道。
你我秘密地相会，
我又默默地悲伤，
你竟然把我欺骗，
你的心终于遗忘。
如果很多年以后，
我们又偶然会面，
我将要怎样招呼你？
只有含着泪，默默无言。
1808年
查良铮 译
- Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen (read by Ben Whishaw) / Music: Beethoven - Symphony No.7 - 2nd Movement (excerpt)
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; c
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind. Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest1
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori. 参考译文（来源网络，仅供学习交流）
深深地弯下腰，就像压在麻包下的老乞丐，
双膝跪下，象丑陋的老太婆在咳嗽，我们用泥巴诅咒，
直到闪耀的火光浮现，我们才背转身，
向着我们遥远的憩息处开始跋涉。
人们在昏昏欲睡中行军。许多人丢掉了鞋子，
但却瘸行，穿着带血的鞋。都变瘸了，都失去了控制；
饥饿地喝水；全然听不见大声的叫嚣；
救命！救命！快，孩子们——经过一种疯狂的
摸索之后，笨拙的“救火员”们刚好及时赶到。
但是仍有人在呼救，在蹒跚、在挣扎，
就好像有一个人被抛进了燃烧的大火或沸腾的石灰浆中。
屋外灰蒙蒙一片，
透过挂满露珠的窗玻璃和窗外泛着浓绿色的光线，
我看到他淹没在绿色的海洋里。
在我所有的梦中，
在我感到无助和恐怖的时刻，
他总是冲向我，一会儿在水中左右摇摆、挣扎，
一会儿又被水淹没，
还不时地发出嘶哑的呼叫。
在一些令人窒息的梦中，
我们把他抛进了一辆囚车，
如果你能紧紧地跟在囚车后面，
望着他的脸上白色的眼珠不停地转动，
他的一张吊死鬼的脸，就像恶魔一样可怖。
在囚车的每一次电波中，
如果你能听到鲜血从污染的肺叶中喷出，
这颗肺就像患了癌一样令人可怖，
就像从口中吐出的血块一样令人感到痛苦、窒息。
——我的朋友，你不能怀着高涨的热情，
向狂热的孩子们讲述这些骇人听闻的故事。
还是这句古老的格言说得好：
为祖国牺牲愉快而又光荣。
这是战争诗人欧文24岁时写下的诗句。欧文在写下这首诗歌后回到了前线，获得了军功十字勋章，于停战日前一周阵亡。
欧文（Wilfred Edward Salter Owen，1893年3月18日－1918年11月4日）是一名英国诗人和军人，被视为第一次世界大战最重要的诗人。由于受到诗人朋友萨松(Siegfried Sassoon)的深切影响，他在那些震憾人心及极具现实感的战争诗篇中，每每描写出战壕和毒气的可惧。欧文一些有名的著作大多是在他死后出版，包括Dulce Et Decorum Est， Anthem for Doomed Youth，Futility和Strange Meeting。1919年编辑出版的诗集序言引用了他不少的佳句，尤其是 'War, and the pity of War' 'the Poetry is in the pity'。据传他是在战争结束前的一个礼拜阵亡于Sambre-Oise Canal的，因为当欧文的死讯传到他的故乡时，当地的教堂钟声刚好宣布战争结束了。
欧文最著名的诗篇(Dulce et Decorum Est , Anthem for Doomed Youth) 正正反映出当代诗人萨松的影响。萨松亦为他幸存的手稿作注释。
- Silver by Walter de la Mare (read by Miriam Margolyes) / Music: Chopin - Nocturne in C sharp minor (excerpt)
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in silver feathered sleep
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
银
德拉梅尔
现在，月儿穿着一双银鞋
慢慢地、静静地走进了夜；
她向这儿看看，那里望望，
望见银果子悬挂在银树上；
在银色草屋顶下面的窗户，
一个接一个地接住她光束；
在窝里扒开着银脚爪的狗
睡得昏沉沉像一段木头；
幽暗的棚里有白胸脯显现——
那是鸽子裹在银羽里安眠；
收获时节的田鼠惊惶跑过——
银爪子铮亮，银眼睛闪烁；
在银色溪流中的银芦苇旁，
一动不动的鱼在水中闪光。
德拉·梅尔，英国诗人、小说家。他喜好描写童年、大自然、梦境和奇幻的东西。善于用诗的语言创造奇特的气氛和富有魅力的故事， 但有时接近荒诞。 他的诗集有《聆听者》(1912)、《孔雀饼》（1913）等。小说有《归来》(1910)、《侏儒回忆录》(1921)等。此外，他编有诗文集《到这里来》(1928)，后来成为英国经典的儿童读物。
- She Walks In Beauty by Lord Byron (read by Martin Shaw) / Music: Grieg - Peer Gynt Suite No.2 - 4th Movement (excerpt)
She Walks in Beauty (by Byron)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent! 她走在美的光彩中
一
她走在美的光彩中，象夜晚
皎洁无云而且繁星漫天；
明与暗的最美妙的色泽
在她的仪容和秋波里呈现：
耀目的白天只嫌光太强，
它比那光亮柔和而幽暗。
二
增加或减少一份明与暗
就会损害这难言的美。
美波动在她乌黑的发上，
或者散布淡淡的光辉
在那脸庞，恬静的思绪
指明它的来处纯洁而珍贵。
三
呵，那额际，那鲜艳的面颊，
如此温和，平静，而又脉脉含情，
那迷人的微笑，那容颜的光彩，
都在说明一个善良的生命：
她的头脑安于世间的一切，
她的心充溢着真纯的爱情！
（查良铮 译）
- Rock Me To Sleep by Elizabeth Akers Allen (read by Alison Steadman) / Music: Schubert - Rosamunde (excerpt)
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for tonight!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—
Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
摇篮曲
噢，时间的流逝，后退，向后退,
让我做回小孩，就只在今夜！
母亲，从没有回音的海岸回来,
一如往昔把我拥抱在怀里;
亲我额头，充满关怀的皱纹，
顺理我头发上几根银丝;
在我睡眠中，一直怜爱地望着我 -
摇我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
噢，岁月的潮汐，后退，向后退！
我己厌倦於辛劳与眼泪 –
辛劳而没有补偿，眼泪都徒劳无功 –
都拿去吧，只要给回我童年！
我已经厌倦了尘埃与腐败，
厌倦於丢失我心灵财富，
厌倦於为他人作嫁衣裳 –
摇我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
厌倦於空洞，卑鄙，不真实，
母亲，噢，母亲，我的心在呼唤您！
多少个夏天，草长绿了，
花开了，凋谢了，在我们的面与面之间;
然而，强烈的愿望，激情的痛苦，
让我今夜渴望再见到您的出现;
来自沉默，那么的久远，那么的深沉，
搖我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
逝去的每个日子，在我的心，
没有爱像母亲的爱那样永续照耀;
没有任何的崇拜能历久不衰，
像您的忠诚，无私，和耐心;
没有能像母亲那样，具抚平痛苦的魅力，
从受病的灵魂，到忧世的心；
在深沉的呼吸中 我安详地沉睡着 –
摇我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
来吧，让您的棕发，闪闪发光，
一如往昔落在您的肩膀；
让它落在我额头，今夜，
护我微弱的眼晴，不让光线照到；
因为，再一次，这个边缘充满阳光的身影，
无意中又撩起昔日甜蜜的愿景；
深情地，轻柔地，您明亮的发丝，波光粼粼 –
摇我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
母亲，亲爱的母亲，已经好多年了，
自从我最后一次听您的催眠曲；
那么，唱吧，唱到我的心灵深处，
让我成长为妇人的岁月，只不过是一场梦。
将我紧靠您的心，作个爱的拥抱，
您的眼睫毛轻轻地，刚扫过我的面庞，
从今而后，不再醒来或哭泣 –
摇我睡觉，母亲 – 摇我睡觉！
苏杭译
伊丽莎白·爱伦Elizabeth Akers Allen，美国诗人（1832－1911）。Rock Me to Sleep（摇篮曲）于1860年，首次刊登在费城周六晚报。这是她的一首广为流传的诗。至1932年，已有三十个作曲家，将之写入音乐。
- Remember by Christina Rossetti (read by Anthony Head) / Music: Sor - Allegretto (excerpt)
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
中译文一：
愿君常忆我 译：吴宓 (1894-1978)
愿君常忆我，逝矣从兹别；
相见及黄泉，渺渺音尘绝
昔来常欢会，执手深情结；
临去又回身，千言意犹切；
絮絮话家常，白首长相契。
此景伤难再，吾生忽易辙；
祝告两无益，寸心已如铁。
惟期常忆我，从兹成永诀
君如暂忘我，回思勿自嗔
我愿君愉乐，不愿君苦辛。
我生无邪思，皎洁断纤尘；
留君心上影，忍令失君真；
忘时君欢笑，忆时君愁颦
愿君常忆我，即此语谆谆。
中译文二：
愿君常忆我 选自：卜一个博客
記著我，當我離去，
去到遠方那死寂之地；
當你再不能牽手留住我，
我也不能再欲去還留。
記著我，當你再不能天天
傾訴你對我們未來的憧憬：
只需記著我；你知道
那時諫言與祈求都已太遲。
你若暫時把我忘卻
而後追憶我時，不要悲慟：
黑暗與腐朽中若留下
我過往的丁點思緒，
你應忘卻而怡然，那將遠勝於
懷念而神傷。
在19世纪的英国文坛上，涌现出两位杰出的女诗人：一位是伊丽莎白·布朗宁，即布朗宁夫人（1806-1861），另一位是她，“拉斐尔前派”著名画家但丁·加百利·罗塞蒂就是他的大哥（她就是哥哥这幅名画《受胎告知》里的圣母玛丽亚的模特）。
- Last Post by Carol Ann Duffy (read by Samantha Morton) / Music: Satie - Gymnopedie No.3 (excerpt)
Carol Ann Duffy's Last Post - Poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy's poem marking the deaths of Henry
Allingham and Harry Patch
Last Post by Carol Ann Duffy
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If poetry could tell it backwards, true, begin
that moment shrapnel scythed you to the stinking mud ...
but you get up, amazed, watch bled bad blood
run upwards from the slime into its wounds;
see lines and lines of British boys rewind
back to their trenches, kiss the photographs from home -
mothers, sweethearts, sisters, younger brothers
not entering the story now
to die and die and die.
Dulce - No - Decorum - No - Pro patria mori.
You walk away.
You walk away; drop your gun (fixed bayonet)
like all your mates do too -
Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, Bert -
and light a cigarette.
There's coffee in the square,
warm French bread
and all those thousands dead
are shaking dried mud from their hair
and queuing up for home. Freshly alive,
a lad plays Tipperary to the crowd, released
from History; the glistening, healthy horses fit for heroes, kings.
You lean against a wall,
your several million lives still possible
and crammed with love, work, children, talent, English beer, good food.
You see the poet tuck away his pocket-book and smile.
If poetry could truly tell it backwards,
then it would.
卡罗尔·安·达菲（Carol Ann Duffy，1955 年12月23日—），苏格兰诗人，自由作家，当代重要的英语女诗人，生于格拉斯哥。她是341年以来英国首位女性桂冠诗人（现任），同时也是第一位苏格兰籍的桂冠诗人。
她已经出版六本诗集，获得多种奖项：1985年出版第一本诗集《站立的裸女》 （Standing Female Nude），受到普遍赞赏，立刻入围当年的第一本诗集奖；1987年出版《出售曼哈顿》（Selling Manhattan）；1990年出版《另一个国度》（The Other Country）；1993年出版《卑鄙时刻》（Mean Time），获得英国著名的两项诗歌大奖威特布赖德（Whitbread）和前进奖（Forward）最佳诗集奖；1999年出版《世界之妻》（The World’s Wife），获得美国的佛斯特奖；2002年出版《女性福音书》（The Feminine Gospels）；她于1995年获得官佐勋章；2002年获得司令勋章。达菲现为曼彻斯特都会大学写作学院的创作总监、当代诗歌教授，2009年5月1日起，她成为英国皇室的御用诗人，这个职位还是首次由女性及公开承认同性恋倾向的诗人担任。她的诗作常以平近易懂的语言，传达有关压迫、性别与暴力等议题的理念。