Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink And rise and sink and rise and sink again;
“爱”并不是一切东西,不能吃,不能喝,当不了下雨时候的屋顶,当不了落水时候的浮木。
中间几句不太记得,也差不多。 最后几句好像是……
It well may be that in a difficult hour, Pinned down by pain and moaning for release, Or nagged by want past resolution's power, I might be driven to sell your love for peace, Or trade the memory of this night for food. It well may be. I do not think I would.