“To Autumn”济慈歌颂过的秋天 | NO.22-咕哒镇

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells. 雾霭的季节，果实圆熟的时令， 你跟催熟万类的太阳是密友； 同他合谋着怎样使藤蔓有幸 挂住累累果实绕帽檐攀走； 让苹果压弯农家苔绿的果树， 教每只水果都打心里熟透； 教葫芦变大；榛子的外壳胀鼓鼓 包着甜果仁；使迟到的花儿这时候 开放，不断地开放，把蜜蜂牵住， 让蜜蜂以为暖和的光景要常驻； 看夏季已从粘稠的蜂巢里溢出。 Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store? Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers: And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. 谁不曾遇见你经常在仓禀的中央？ 谁要是出外去寻找就会见到 你漫不经心地坐在粮仓的地板上， 让你的头发在扬谷的风中轻飘； 或者在收割了一半的犁沟里酣睡， 被罂粟的浓香所熏醉，你的镰刀 放过了下一垄庄稼和交缠的野花； 有时像拾了麦穗，你跨过溪水， 头上稳稳地顶着穗囊不晃摇； 或傍着榨汁机，一刻又一刻仔细瞧， 对滴到最后的果浆耐心地观察。 Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft; And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. 春歌在哪里？哎，春歌在哪里？ 别想念春歌，——你有自己的音乐， 当层层云霞使渐暗的天空绚丽， 给大片留在茬地抹上玫瑰的色泽， 这时小小的蚊蚋悲哀地合唱 在河边柳树丛中，随着微风 来而又去，蚊蚋升起又沉落； 长大的羔羊在山边鸣叫得响亮； 篱边的蟋蟀在歌唱；红胸的知更 从菜园发出百啭千鸣的高声， 群飞的燕子在空中呢喃话多。