不要温和地走进那个良夜,
老年应当在日暮时燃烧咆哮;
怒斥,怒斥光明的消逝。
虽然智慧的人临终时懂得黑暗有理,
因为他们的话没有进发出闪电,他们
也并不温和地走进那个良夜。
善良的人,当最后一浪过去,高呼他们脆弱的善行
可能曾会多么光辉地在绿色的海湾里舞蹈,
怒斥,怒斥光明的消逝。
狂暴的人抓住并歌唱过翱翔的太阳,
懂得,但为时太晚,他们使太阳在途中悲伤,
也并不温和地走进那个良夜。
严肃的人,接近死亡,用炫目的视觉看出
失明的跟睛可以像流星一样闪耀欢欣,
怒斥,恕斥光明的消逝。
您啊,我的父亲.在那悲哀的高处.
现在用您的热泪诅咒我,祝福我吧.我求您
不要温和地走进那个良夜。
怒斥.怒斥光明的消逝。
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
老年应当在日暮时燃烧咆哮;
怒斥,怒斥光明的消逝。
虽然智慧的人临终时懂得黑暗有理,
因为他们的话没有进发出闪电,他们
也并不温和地走进那个良夜。
善良的人,当最后一浪过去,高呼他们脆弱的善行
可能曾会多么光辉地在绿色的海湾里舞蹈,
怒斥,怒斥光明的消逝。
狂暴的人抓住并歌唱过翱翔的太阳,
懂得,但为时太晚,他们使太阳在途中悲伤,
也并不温和地走进那个良夜。
严肃的人,接近死亡,用炫目的视觉看出
失明的跟睛可以像流星一样闪耀欢欣,
怒斥,恕斥光明的消逝。
您啊,我的父亲.在那悲哀的高处.
现在用您的热泪诅咒我,祝福我吧.我求您
不要温和地走进那个良夜。
怒斥.怒斥光明的消逝。
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.