Lo, in the orient when the gracious light
瞧呀，瞧东方仁慈的朝阳抬起了
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
火红的头颅，每一双尘世的眼晴
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
都向它初升的景象致敬，
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
仰望的目光膜拜着神圣的光明。
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
瞧它登上了陡峭的天峰，
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
宛如正当盛年的年轻人，
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
而人间的眼睛依然仰慕他的美貌，
Attending on his golden pilgrimage;
追随他那金色的旅程。
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
但当随疲乏的车辇越过高峰，
Like feeble age he reeleth from the day,
他渐渐在远离白昼，如老迈之人，
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
于是那从前恭候的百光就不再追逐
From his low tract and look another way:
他下行之道而转顾他途。
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon,
而你呵，也一样，如今正值赫日当午，
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.
若不养个儿子，便会死而无人盼顾。
