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How Bill forgets his hour of pride, While Joe sits smiling at his side;
乔笑盈盈坐在他旁边，比尔怎会忘记他何等自豪；
How Joe, in spite of time's disguise, Finds the old schoolmate in his eyes, — Those calm, stern eyes, that melt and fill,
尽管时光可伪装，乔又是怎样，从老同学的眼神中读出异样，
As Joe looks fondly up to Bill, Ah! pensive scholar, what is fame? A fitful tongue of leaping flame; A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust, That lifts a pinch of mortal dust;
当乔天真地端详比尔，那眼神混杂了镇定和严厉，哎，陷入沉思的学者，名望是什么东西？是跳动着火焰的舌头；一阵令人眩晕的变幻无常的旋风，只刮起一捏尘土；
A few swift years, and who can show, Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe.
时光荏苒，谁能说明白哪捏尘土是比尔，哪捏又是乔。
The weary idol takes his stand, Holds out his bruised and aching hand, While gaping thousands come and go - How vain it seems, this empty show!
疲惫的偶像保持着他的姿势，伸出他伤痕累累和疼痛难耐的手，在成千上万张大了嘴的人面前走来走去-这多么徒劳，这场空洞的表演！
Till all at once his pulses thrill: T is poor old Joe's, "God bless you, Bill!" And shall we breathe in happier spheres, The names that pleased our mortal ears;
直到他的脉搏马上剧烈跳动：可怜的老乔，“上帝赐福与你，比尔！”我们在快乐的气氛下低语，提到的是取悦我们终将变聋的耳朵的名字；
In some sweet lull of heart and song, For earth born spirits none too long, Just whispering of the world below,
在心底和歌声温柔的旋律里，因为世间没有什么精神会存在太久，下界在低语呢喃，
When this was Bill, and that was Joe? No matter; while our home is here, No sounding name is half so dear;
这是比尔，那是乔吗？不要紧；我们的家园在这里；
When fades at length our lingering day, Who cares what pompous tombstones say? Read on the hearts that love us still, Hic jacet Joe, Hic jacet Bill.
当我们逗留不去的日子终将逝去时，谁会在意自负的墓石说些什么？不妨继续读那些还爱我们的心吧，长眠于此的乔，长眠于此的比尔。
