57
I plucked your flower， O world！
我采了你的花，呵，世界！
I pressed it to my heart and the thorn pricked.
我把它压在胸前，花刺伤了我。
When the day waned and it darkened， I found that the flower had faded， but the pain remained.
日光渐暗，我发现花儿凋谢了，痛苦却存留着。
More flowers will come to you with perfume and pride， O world！
许多有香有色的花又将来到你这里，呵，世界！
But my time for flower-gathering is over， and through the dark night I have not my rose， only the pain remains.
但是我采花的时代过去了，黑夜悠悠，我没有了玫瑰，只有痛苦存留着。