輕輕的我走了,
正如我輕輕的來;
我輕輕的招手,
作別西天的雲彩。
那河畔的金柳,
是夕陽中的新娘;
波光裡的艷影,
在我的心頭蕩漾。
軟泥上的青荇,
油油地在水底招搖;
在康河的柔波裡,
我甘心做一條水草!
那榆蔭下的一潭,
不是清泉,是天上虹;
揉碎在浮藻間,
沉澱著彩虹似的夢。
尋夢?撐一支長篙,
向青草更青處漫溯;
滿載一船星輝,
在星輝斑斕裡放歌。
但我不能放歌,
悄悄是別離的笙簫;
夏蟲也為我沉默,
沉默是今晚的康橋!
悄悄的我走了,
正如我悄悄的來;
我揮一揮衣袖,
不帶走一片雲彩。
Taking Leave of Cambridge Again
By Xu Zhimo
Softly I am leaving,
Just as softly as I came;
I softly wave goodbye
To the clouds in the western sky.
The golden willows by the riverside
Are young brides in the setting sun;
Their glittering reflections on the shimmering river
Keep undulating in my heart.
The green tape grass rooted in the soft mud
Sways leisurely in the water;
I am willing to be such a waterweed
In the gentle flow of the River Cam.
That pool in the shade of elm trees
Holds not clear spring water, but a rainbow
Crumpled in the midst of duckweeds,
Where rainbow-like dreams settle.
To seek a dream? Go punting with a long pole,
Upstream to where green grass is greener,
With the punt laden with starlight,
And sing out loud in its radiance.
Yet now I cannot sing out loud,
Peace is my farewell music;
Even crickets are now silent for me,
For Cambridge this evening is silent.
Quietly I am leaving,
Just as quietly as I came;
Gently waving my sleeve,
I am not taking away a single cloud.
(6 November 1928)