To the Cuckoo O blithe new-comer! I have heard, I hear thee and rejoice. O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear; From hill to hill it seems to pass At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even ye thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice a mystery; The same whom in my schoolboy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again. O blessed Bird! the earth we pace Again appears to be An unsubstantial, faery place; That is fit home for thee!
致布谷鸟
啊,快乐的新客! 听到你啭鸣,我满怀喜悦; 啊,布谷,是否称你为鸟? 或为妙音,回荡清越? 当我躺在草地上, 听到你的二重唱: 似从这山传到那山, 似在近旁,又在远方。 你的歌声在山谷回荡, 伴着繁华和阳光; 你还把我带到 追忆往事的幻想。 我再三地欢迎 你是阳春的先行。 在我眼中,你可不是鸟, 而是无形的神奇之音。 想当年我还是小学生, 曾倾听同样的鸣声; 我千方百计寻找, 从天上到丛林。 我时常漫游,为了找你, 踩着草地,穿过密林; 如今仍在期待,虽不眼见, 你仍是希望,是恋情。 此刻我躺在平原, 你的歌声仍能听见。 我专心谛听, 直到召回金色的童年。 我们栖息的大地 又显得空灵而神奇; 这是你安家的福地, 啊, 快乐的鸟儿,祝福你!
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