The Unquiet Grave---an English folk song, anonymous，dated from 1400
“The wind doth blow today, my love, And a few small drops of rain; I never had but one true-love, In cold grave she was lain. “I’ll do as much for my true-love As any young man may; I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave For a twelvemonth and a day.” The twelvemonth and a day being up, The death began to speak: “Oh who sits weeping on my grave, And will not let me sleep?” “’T is I, my love, sits on your grave, And will not let you sleep; For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips, And that is all I seek.” “You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips, But my breath smells earthy strong; If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips, Your time will not be long. “’T is down in yonder garden green, Love, where we used to walk, The finest flower that e’re was seen Is withered to a stalk. “The stalk is withered dry, my love, So will our hearts decay; So make yourself content, my love, Till God calls you away.”
早上去上班前看到小K的 【往事回味】不静之坟----The Unquiet Grave---- Anonymous ballard 实在是好生羡慕。我没有水平翻成五言古风，但也穷尽了洪荒之力，翻出一白话版。
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凄风苦雨兮，自天降，
吾之恋人兮，坟中躺。
为伊守灵兮，在墓旁，
一年零一天兮，有点长。
亡灵忽然开口兮，把话讲，
“是谁在此，让我觉也睡不香？”
（我）“做春秋大梦，你休想，
赶紧亲我一口，没商量！”
（伊）“我的嘴唇，冰冰凉，
亲谁一口，谁遭殃，
园中草青兮，花亦芬芳，
一朝枯萎兮，空余惆怅。
万事皆有定兮，且勿慌，
静待他年重逢兮，乐未央。“
The Unquiet Grave---an English folk song, anonymous，dated from 1400
“The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love,
In cold grave she was lain.
“I’ll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.”
The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The death began to speak:
“Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?”
“’T is I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek.”
“You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
But my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.
“’T is down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that e’re was seen
Is withered to a stalk.
“The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away.”
一时间，整个墓地，春回大地，香满人间。