The Grasshopper and the Cricket
The poetry of earth is never dead.
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun
And hide in cooling trees,a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new mown mead
That is the Grasshopper’s. He takes the lead
In summer luxury;he has never done
With his delights,for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never.
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence,from the stove there shrills
The cricket’s song,in warmth increasing ever，
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The grasshopper’s among some grassy hills.
蝈蝈和蛐蛐
大地的诗啊永远不会死：
当骄阳炎炎使百鸟昏晕，
躲进了树荫，却有个声音
在草地边、树篙闻飘荡不止；
那是蝈蝈在领喝，在奢华的夏日
它的欢乐永远消耗不尽，
因为如果它唱得疲倦过分，
就在草寸下享受片刻的闲适。
大地的诗啊永远不会停：
在寂寞的冬夜里，当霜雪
织出一片静寂，炉边的蛐蛐
尖声吟唱，歌声随着温度上升，
使人在睡意朦胧中恍惚听得，
绿草如茵的山坡上蝈蝈的歌曲。