• You'll Love Me yet
    By Robert Browning  1812-1889

    You'll love me yet!—and I can tarry
    Your love's protracted growing:
    June rear'd that bunch of flowers you carry,
    From seeds of April's sowing.

    I plant a heartful now: some seed
    At least is sure to strike,
    And yield—what you'll not pluck indeed,
    Not love, but, may be, like.

    You'll look at least on love's remains,
    A grave's one violet:
    Your look?—that pays a thousand pains.
    What's death? You’ll love me yet!

     

    你总有爱我的一天
    [英] 罗伯特·勃朗宁

    你总有爱我的一天!
    我能等着你的爱慢慢地长大。
    你手里提着的那把花,
    不也是四月下的种子,六月开的吗?

    我如今种下满心窝的种子,
    至少总有一两粒生根发芽,
    开的花是你不要采的——
    不是爱,也许是一点喜欢吧。

    我坟前开的紫罗兰——
    爱的遗迹——你总会瞧它一眼;
    你那一眼吗?抵得我千般苦恼了。
    死算什么?你总有爱我的一天。