【搬运】洛老的十四行诗(47)

There are no footfalls, and the one soft sound
Is of the oily water as it glides
Under stone bridges, and along the sides
Of its deep flume, to some vague ocean bound.
None lives to tell when that stream washed away
Its dream-lost region from the world of clay.

翻译是trow上一个大佬的。。。
只是单纯搬运。。
很粗糙。请见谅：D