jué 'āi dào lún dūn huǒ zhōng de hái 
jué 'āi dào lún dūn huǒ zhōng de hái A Refusal to Mourn the Death, by Fire, of a Child in London

shīrén: lán · tuō Dylan Thomas
  zhí dào chuàng zào rén lèi
   zhù zǎi qín shòu huā
   jūn lín wàn de hēi 'àn
   chén xuān gào zuì hòu guāng míng shǎn xiàn
   ér jìng zhǐ de shí chén
   lái 'è xià zào dòng 'ān de hǎi
  
   ér zài jìn
   shuǐ zhū yuán rùn de tiān tíng
   shǔ shǔ de yóu jiào táng
   cái néng wéi shēng yīn de yǐng dǎo
   huò zài fúsāng de yōu zhī zhōng
   de zhǒng 'āi dào
  
   zhè hái gāo guì 'ér zhuàng liè de wáng
   huì móu shā
   yán jùn de zhēn tóng xíng de rén xìng
   huì zài tiān zhēn
   qīng chūn de wǎn
   xiè dòu shēng mìng de gǎng kǒu
  
   lún dūn de 'ér zhě tóng xué shēn zàng
   zhòng duō de zhì qīn hǎo yǒu jiāng guǒ méi
   yǒng héng de chén qīn shēn de xuè guǎn
   bàng zhe lěng
   yǒng liú de tài shì
   shēng mìng sàng shī hòuzài méi yòu lìng wáng


  Never until the mankind making
  Bird beast and flower
  Fathering and all humbling darkness
  Tells with silence the last light breaking
  And the still hour
  Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
  
  And I must enter again the round
  Zion of the water bead
  And the synagogue of the ear of corn
  Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
  Or sow my salt seed
  In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
  
  The majesty and burning of the child's death.
  I shall not murder
  The mankind of her going with a grave truth
  Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
  With any further
  Elegy of innocence and youth.
  
  Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
  Robed in the long friends,
  The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
  Secret by the unmourning water
  Of the riding Thames.
  After the first death, there is no other.