"Hello,dear Robin in the tree,
“你好,树上亲爱的知更鸟,
Will you sing a song for me ?
你能给我唱支歌吗?”
'Yes,I will sing a happy song,
“好的,我要唱一支快乐的'歌,
Cheerily cheerily all day long.
开开心心地唱一天。
Hear the March winds blow,
听,三月的风儿在吹,
See the green buds show,
看,绿色的蓓蕾已出现,
Beartiful flowers are dancing,
美丽的花儿在跳舞,
Glad that spring is coming."
真高兴春天就要来到。”
Sound the flute!
Now it's mute.
Birds delight,
Day and night;
Nightingale.
In the dale,
Lark in sky,
Merrily,
Merrily, merrily, to welcome in the year.
The village is full of the colour of white, and noises
Acacia flowers are blooming, attracting the wings of bees
To be covered with pollens of the sunshine
If you mix acacia flowers with flour and steam it—
We take a short cut to get ahead of the bees
And smell the scent of spring
“Acacia honey, acacia honey—“ Beekeepers
Prolongs his cry
And the road from * to the beehives are prolonged as well
by the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast—a cold wind. beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen
patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees
all along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines—
lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches—
they enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. all about them
the cold, familiar wind—
now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
one by one objects are defined—
it quickens: clarity, outline of leaf
but now the stark dignity of
entrance—still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken
When Spring Goes By
The winds that on the uplands softly lie,
Grow keener where the ice is lingering still
Where the first robin on the sheltered hill
Pipes blithely to the tune,"When Spring goes by!"
Hear him again,"Spring!Spring!" He seems to cry,
Haunting the fall of the flute-throated rill,
That keeps a gentle,constant,silver thrill,
While he is restless in his ecstasy.
Ah!the soft budding of the virginal woods,
Of the frail fruit trees by the vanishing lakes:
There's the new moon where the clear sunset floods,
A trace of dew upon the rose leaf sky;
And hark!what rapture the glad robin wakes-
"When Spring goes by; Spring!Spring!When
Spring goes by."
Duncan Campbell Scott
Beautiful Spring
Beautiful spring is here.
The winter is gone.
But the birds are back.
The snow is gone.
But the flowers are back.
Old coats are gone.
But new ones are here.
Spring is a beautiful time.