| 英譯： |
AT dawn, a thousand clumps of trees,
Glossy as wax,
Fading scent of fallen stamens
Lingering a little.
On shadowed branches, pale-green down
Of buds still furled,
Summer breezes blow from afar,
Coaxing their verdure.
Villagers grow wheat on ridges,
High on new dikes,
Thick over long balks where I stroll,
Mulberry and silkworm-thorn,
A piercing fragrance fills the earth
From the sweet-flag.
Swallows are chattering on rain-drenched beams,
Sad chat I'm growing old,
Whirling petals of the third month,
Fly to River walks.
Enriching heaven, enriching earth,
Willows sweep the ground.
|