維也納森林的晨霧輕吻羽管鍵琴，

松針替圓號鋪開翡翠的譜面，

鹿蹄踏過，圓舞像香檳泡沫升起。

紫羅蘭把心事遞給風(fēng)，

風(fēng)又交給施特勞斯的弓弦。

月亮拎起裙角，

在多瑙河的鏡子里旋轉(zhuǎn)——

一步，兩步，

濺起的浪花全是老維也納的名字。

請把夜交給華爾茲，

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Moonlit sails on pixie dust,

we chase the echo of the first laugh;

crooked compass spins to heartbeat north,

where clocks forget their faces.

Mermaids trade tears for lullabies,

we stitch them into kites of night;

every scar becomes a star—

a map only the lost can read.

So roar, lost boys of the skyline,

drum the clouds like war-painted tom-toms;

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