Author: Ying thomas nashe
Translator: Guo Moruo
Spring, sweet spring, Yao and Shun in a year,
Flowers and trees are everywhere, and daughters are dancing in circles everywhere.
Slightly cold but clear, good birds are singing,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
Elms and hawthorn, families dressed as farmhouses,
Lambs play, shepherds play all day,
Birds always sing in harmony, a melodious rhythm,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
The fragrant wind rippled in the countryside, and daisies kissed people's heels.
Couples, old women sitting in the sun,
Go to any avenue, there is a sweet song,
Zhaozhao, Chaochao, brother, cut the wheat and insert a grain!
Spring! Sweet spring!
Spring evening
Author: Russian Ivan sergeyevich Turgenev
Translator: Ge Baoquan
Spring night
Golden clouds
Flying on the still earth;
Vast and silent fields,
Shining with the light of dew;
The stream gurgled in the shadow of the canyon—
The thunder of spring rang in the distance,
A lazy breeze is among the leaves of poplars.
Incite with bound wings.
The tall Woods were silent and motionless,
Green and dark forests are silent.
Only occasionally, in the deep shadow,
A sleepless leaf is rustling.
Stars, Venus of beautiful love,
Shining in flames at sunset,
How bright and sacred my heart is,
As light as childhood.
( 1843)
Note: This poem was written by Russian composer Rubinstein in 1848.
Written in early spring
Author: william wordsworth
Translator: Wang Zuoliang
I was lying in the Woods,
Listening to thousands of harmonious voices,
A leisurely mood, pleasant thoughts,
But it brings anxiety.
Nature puts her beautiful things
Through the soul I touch,
I'm sorry, I remember.
How people treat others.
The primrose bushes in the shade over there,
Catharanthus roseus is weaving a wreath,
I believe that every flower, big or small,
Can enjoy the air it breathes.
The birds around jump and play,
I don't know what they think,
But every little move they make,
Seems to evoke joy in my heart.
The budding buds spread their arms like fans,
Catch the breeze,
I can't help but feel deeply,
They also have their own happiness,
If God wants me to believe that,
If this is nature's intention,
I have no reason to lament?
How do people treat people?
spring
Tagore of India
The wind turned green.
The rain turned green.
Wake up in spring
Throw yourself into our arms
A newly awakened stream.
I haven't cleared my throat yet
I scattered crunchy songs all over the floor.
The fruit tree that just woke up
I haven't paid attention to growing leaves yet
It burst into dazzling light.
Swallows are very busy in spring.
She is whispering.
While carefully using shiny scissors