Lo! ’t is a gala night 罗！ t是一个盛大夜晚

Within the lonesome latter years! 在寂寞的晚年！

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight 一个天使的人群， bewinged ， bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears, 在面纱，并淹没在泪水，

Sit in a theatre, to see 坐在电影院，看到

A play of hopes and fears, 希望和恐惧的发挥，

While the orchestra breathes fitfully 而乐团呼吸断断续续

The music of the spheres. 天体的音乐。

   

Mimes, in the form of God on high, 默剧，神高的形式，

Mutter and mumble low, 吞吞吐吐低，

And hither and thither fly - 而忽东忽西飞 -

Mere puppets they, who come and go 只是他们的傀儡，谁来去

At bidding of vast formless things 在巨大的无形的东西招标

That shift the scenery to and fro, 这景色转移来来回回，

Flapping from out their Condor wings 从他们的秃鹰翅膀扇动

Invisible Wo! 看不见的窝！

   

That motley drama - oh, be sure 这形形色色的戏剧 - 哦，一定

It shall not be forgot! 它不应被忘记！

With its Phantom chased for evermore 凭借幻影追逐，直到永远

By a crowd that seize it not, 由一群在抓住它没有，

Through a circle that ever returneth in 通过一个循环，永远归回的

To the self - same spot, 以自我 - 同一地点，

And much of Madness, and more of Sin, 和许多疯狂的，多仙，

And Horror the soul of the plot. 和恐怖的情节的灵魂。

   

But see, amid the mimic rout, 但是看出，在一片模仿溃败，

A crawling shape intrude! 爬行状侵入！

A blood-red thing that writhes from out 血红色的东西，从翻腾出来

The scenic solitude! 风景秀丽的孤独！

It writhes! - it writhes! - with mortal pangs 它翻腾！ - 这翻腾！ - 与凡人的阵痛

The mimes become its food, 在默剧成为它的食物，

And seraphs sob at vermin fangs 和六翼天使在哭泣害虫獠牙

In human gore imbued. 在人类的血腥充满。

   

Out - out are the lights - out all! 输出 - 输出的灯 - 所有！

And, over each quivering form, 而且，在每个颤颤巍巍的形式，

The curtain, a funeral pall, 大幕，一场葬礼的阴云，

Comes down with the rush of a storm, 归结了风暴的高峰，

While the angels, all pallid and wan, 而天使，所有的苍白而憔悴，

Uprising, unveiling, affirm 起义，揭幕，肯定

That the play is the tragedy, “Man,” 这部戏是悲剧， “人”

And its hero, the Conqueror Worm. 和它的英雄，征服者蠕虫。