With How Sad Steps, O Moon

　　With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb’st the skies!

　　How silently, and with how wan a face!

　　What! may it be that even in heavenly place

　　That busy archer his sharp arrows tries?

　　Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes

　　Can judge of love, thou feel’st a lover’s case：

　　I read it in thy looks, ---thy languished grace

　　To me, that feel the like, thy state descries．

　　Then, even of fellowship, O moon, tell me,

　　Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?

　　Are beauties there as proud as here they be?

　　Do they above love to be loved, and yet

　　Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?

　　Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?

　　啊, 月亮

　　吕志鲁译

　　啊, 月亮, 你爬上天空,

　　步履多么悲伤!

　　你面色如此苍白,

　　你哑口无言一声不响!

　　怎么, 即使在高高的天上,

　　忙碌的'丘比特还在让他的箭派上用场?

　　真的, 如果那双慧眼明辨爱情,

　　那你就有了爱的迹象：

　　我已经看出端倪,

　　从你那伤感的模样。

　　即使是出于友谊,

　　请你告诉我, 月亮,

　　那里是不是充满恒久的情爱,

　　只是缺少智慧赖以滋长?

　　那里的美人是不是孤芳自赏,

　　与我们人间没有两样?

　　他们是不是想要得到爱恋,

　　爱恋者却嘲笑别人堕入情网?

　　他们如何看待情爱,

　　是不是把无情无义称作品德高尚?

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