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她已被消耗像各种储备。
她已是树根。
可是突然，
那神祇拦住她，痛苦地
喊出一句：“他回头啦！”
她懵懵懂懂，轻声问：“谁？”
但在远处明亮出口的暗影，
不知是谁站在那里，他的面容
无法分辨。他站在那里看着，
在草地间的小道上，
那信使之神，眼中含着忧伤，
默默转身，跟随那个身影，
那身影已回头踏上来时的路，
长长的殓衣限制了她的脚步，
她茫然却温顺，充满耐心。
ORPHEUS. EURYDICE. HERMES
That was the strange unfathomed mine of souls.
And they, like silent veins of silver ore,
were winding through its darkness. Between roots
welled up the blood that flows on to mankind,
like blocks of heavy porphyry in the darkness.
Else there was nothing red.But there were rocks
and ghostly forests. Bridges over voidness
and that immense, gray, unreflecting pool
that hang above its so far distant bed
like a gray rainy sky above the landscape.
And between meadows, soft and full of patience,
appeared the pale strip of the single pathway,
like a long line of linen laid to bleach.
And on this single pathway they approached.
In front the slender man in the blue mantle,
gazing in dumb impatience straight before him.
His steps devoured the way in mighty chunks
they did not pause to chew; his hands were hanging,
heavy and clenched, out of the falling folds,
no longer conscious of the lightsome lyre,
the lyre which had grown into his left
like twines of rose into a branch of olive.
It seemed as though his senses were divided:
for, while his sight ran like a dog before him,
turned round, came back, and stood, time and again,
distant and waiting, at the path's next turn,
his hearing lagged behind him like a smell.
It seemed to him at times as though it stretched
back to the progress of those other two
who should be following up this whole ascent.
Then once more there was nothing else behind him
but his climb's echo and his mantle's wind.
He, though, assured himself they still were coming;
said it aloud and heard it die away.
They still were coming, only they were two
that trod with fearful lightness. If he durst
but once look back (if only looking back
were not undoing of this whole enterprise
still to be done), he could not fail to see them,
the two lightfooters, following him in silence:
The god of faring and of distant message,
the travelinghood over his shining eyes,
the slender wand held out before this body,
the wings around his ankles lightly beating,
and in his left hand, as entrusted, her.
She, so belov'd, that from a single lyre
more mourning rose than from all womenmourners —
that a whole world of mourning rose, wherein
all things were once more present：wood and vale
and road and hamlet, field and stream and beast —
and that around this world of mourning turned,
even as around the other earth, a sun
and a whole silent heaven full of stars,
a heaven of mourning with disfigured stars —
she, so beloved.
But hand in hand now with that god she walked,
her paces circumscribed by lengthy shroudings,
uncertain, gentle, and without impatience.
Wrapt in herself, like one whose time is near,
she thought not of the man who went before them,
nor of the road ascending into life.
Wrapt in herself she wandered. And her deadness