圣诞前夜，十二点，
“现在它们都跪倒在地，”
一位长者说，当我们坐成一群
在炉火的余烬旁舒享安逸。

我们描绘那些温顺的生命
安居在它们的稻草棚里，
我们当中没有谁产生怀疑
它们当时正跪在那里。

如此美妙的幻想实在少见
在这些年里！可，我感觉，
假若有人在圣诞前夜提议，
“来呀，去看牛群正跪着呢，

在我们童年熟知常去的
那峡谷小溪边寂静的农场里，”
我定会以真切之情
在昏暗中与他同去。

The Oxen

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come; see the oxen kneel,

"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,"
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.

---By Thomas Hardy (1840-1925)

托马斯.哈代，英国著名作家，著有小说[德伯家的苔丝]，[卡斯特桥市长]等 。