今天是母亲节,想起了逝去了的母亲...还是翻译首有关母亲的诗吧

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pilingjushi
楼主 (北美华人网)
Rock Me to Sleep (by Elizabeth Akers Allen)
Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,  Make me a child again just for tonight!  Mother, come back from the echoless shore,  Take me again to your heart as of yore;  Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,  Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;  Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—       Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 
时间时间你别跑, 今晚让我回童年。 妈妈妈妈你快回, 将我存心似从前。 吻我脑门示慈爱, 把我银发都拔完。 发困时候来摇我, 一直摇到我入眠。
(原诗一共6节,因时间关系暂时先翻一节)
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pilingjushi
后面几节诗原文:
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!  I am so weary of toil and of tears,—       Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—    Take them, and give me my childhood again!  I have grown weary of dust and decay,—     Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;  Weary of sowing for others to reap;—     Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep! 
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,  Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!  Many a summer the grass has grown green,  Blossomed and faded, our faces between:  Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,  Long I tonight for your presence again.  Come from the silence so long and so deep;—     Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,  No love like mother-love ever has shone;  No other worship abides and endures,—        Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:  None like a mother can charm away pain  From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.  Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—       Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,  Fall on your shoulders again as of old;  Let it drop over my forehead tonight,  Shading my faint eyes away from the light;  For with its sunny-edged shadows once more  Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;  Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—     Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long  Since I last listened your lullaby song:  Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem  Womanhood’s years have been only a dream.  Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,  With your light lashes just sweeping my face,  Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—       Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
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dawnnight1
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