Hope is the thing with feathers 希望是长着羽毛的小鸟 That perches in the soul 栖身于灵魂故里
And sings the tune without the words
它哼着没有歌词的小曲儿
And never stops at all
永不停息
And sweetest in the gale is heard
它在狂风中歌唱着快乐
And sore must be the storm
在暴雨里领略着险恶
That could abash the little bird
猛烈的暴风雨让它品尝着不安
That kept so many warm
而它还是感到几多温暖
I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
我听到它鸣唱于最寒冷的陆地
And on the strangest sea
或者在最陌生的海洋
Yet, never, in extremity
即使陷入绝境
It asked a crumb of me
也未曾向我讨要一点儿口粮
（摇曳生香摘）