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My soul is dark—Oh! quickly string 我灵魂阴郁——快调好琴弦， The harp I yet can brook to hear; 趁我还受得住聆听乐曲; And let thy gentle fingers fling 用轻柔手指向我耳边 Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear. 弹弄出喁喁细诉的低语。 If in this heart a hope be dear, 只要这颗心还有所希图， That sound shall charm it forth again; 乐音会再度将它诱导; If in these eyes there lurk a tear, 只要这双眼还藏着泪珠， 'Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain. 会流出，不再把脑髓煎熬。 But bid the strain be wild and deep, 让琴曲旋律深沉而激越， Nor let thy notes of joy be first: 欢快的调门请暂且躲开; I tell thee, minstrel, I must weep, 乐师呵，让我哭泣吧，否则， Or else this heavy heart will burst; 沉重的心呵，会爆成碎块! For it hath been by sorrow nursed, 它原是悲哀所哺育，后来 And ached in sleepless silence long; 长期在失眠中熬受痛楚; | 
