Was it the proud full sail of his great verse,
难道他的诗帆已长驱直入你的沧溟，
Bound for the prize of all too precious you,
先声夺人俘获了你价值连城的芳心?
That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse,
可怜我情思万种却只能愁锁脑际，
Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?
忍叫化育情思的子宫变作荒坟。
Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write
难道是他的诗心受鬼使神差
Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead?
写下超凡的诗句，令我落魄伤魂？
No, neither he, nor his compeers by night
不，不是他，也不是夜半的精灵

Giving him aid, my verse astonished.
曾助他一臂之力使我的诗思告罄。
He, nor that affable familiar ghost
他和那个伸出援手的和蔼幽灵
Which nightly gulls him with intelligence
都不能夸口曾星夜用智共举奇兵，
As victors of my silence cannot boast;
遂使我情场败北，无奈缄口称臣，
I was not sick of any fear from thence:
因而我镇静自若，不诧也不心惊。
But when your countenance fill'd up his line,
但当他的劲作直入你的心门，
Then lack'd I matter; that enfeebled mine.
我无门可进，软搭搭没了精神。