I love roads:
The goddesses that dwell
Far along invisible
Are my favorite gods.

Roads go on
While we forget, and are
Forgotten like a star
That shoots and is gone.

On this earth 'tis sure
We men have not made             
Anything that doth fade
So soon, so long endure:

The hill road wet with rain
In the sun would not gleam
Like a winding stream
If we trod it not again.

They are lonely
While we sleep, lonelier
For lack of the traveller
Who is now a dream only. 

From dawn's twilight
And all the clouds like sheep
On the mountains of sleep
They wind into the night.

The next turn may reveal
Heaven: upon the crest
The close pine clump, at rest
And black, may Hell conceal.

Often footsore, never
Yet of the road I weary,                  
Though long and steep and dreary,
As it winds on for ever.

Helen of the roads,
The mountain ways of Wales
And the Mabinogion tales,
Is one of the true gods,

Abiding in the trees,
The threes and fours so wise,
The larger companies,
That by the roadside be,

And beneath the rafter
Else uninhabited
Excepting by the dead;
And it is her laughter

At morn and night I hear
When the thrush cock sings
Bright irrelevant things,
And when the chanticleer

Calls back to their own night
Troops that make loneliness
With their light footsteps’ press,
As Helen’s own are light.

Now all roads lead to France
And heavy is the tread
Of the living; but the dead
Returning lightly dance:

Whatever the road bring
To me or take from me,
They keep me company
With their pattering,

Crowding the solitude
Of the loops over the downs,
Hushing the roar of towns
and their brief multitude.

我爱道路：
在不可见远方
居住的女神们
是我最喜爱的神。

路前行
而我们忘记，也被
忘记如一颗星
闪过并不见。

地上的人们
确实从未造出
任何事消去
更快，延续更久：

雨水打湿的山路
不会在阳光下闪耀
如蜿蜒的溪流
若我们不再踏上它。

它们是孤单的
当我们睡着，孤单更深
因没有旅行者——
他此时仅是一个梦。

从黎明的暮色，
与睡眠的群山上
所有羊群般云朵中
它们蜿蜒进入夜晚。

下一个弯或许展现
天堂：在坡顶
松从紧密，静止
而昏暗，或将地狱隐藏。

我常双足酸痛，却从未
厌倦道路，
尽管漫长、陡峭、荒凉，
它们永远盘旋向前。

威尔士的山路
与马比诺吉昂故事集中
造路的海伦，
是真正的神灵之一，

停留在树木中，
三三两两的智者，
更大的群体
则在道路两旁

与椽木下：
除死者之外
无人居住；
正是她的笑声

我在晨与夜听见
当槲鸫歌唱
明亮的无关的事，
当雄鸡

将士兵们唤回各自的夜：
他们形成孤独
以轻盈脚步的触碰，
如海伦一样轻盈。

如今每条路都通向法国
沉重是生者
的步伐，而死者
归来时轻快舞蹈：

无论道路带给我
或拿走什么，
他们陪伴我
喋喋不休，

挤满了孤独——
属于丘陵上的环路，
平息城镇的喧嚣
与它们短暂的人群。