赫冀成春—朱自清 及英文翻译

2021年1月22日发(作者：tyrannical)
For
so
long
we
had
been
waiting
before
the
east
wind
finally
resumed
its
course. Now Spring is to arrive in no time.

It
seems
that
everything
is
just
after
a
long
sleep,
their
eyes
still
sleepy.
Mountains and hills turn more luxuriant, rivers and lakes fuller and clearer,
and the sun hotter.

The
new
grass,
tender
and
greenish,
sneaked
out
of
the
ground
without
anybody knowing when. The gardens, fields, everywhere you turn, you see
but tracts after tracts of greenness. You may like to sit down, or lie down, or
roll
yourself
over
on
the
grass;
and
you
may
feel
like
playing
footfall
or
doing
several
rounds
of
running
or
even
playing
hide-and-seek
on
it.
The
breeze was simply so gentle and the grass so tender.

The peach trees, apricot trees, and pear trees seem to vie against each other
in blossoming. The red resemble fire, the pink clouds, and the white snow,
giving off a sweet fragrance. With your eyes closed, you could almost see
peaches, apricots and pears on these trees. And swarms of bees are buzzing
among the flowers, together with butterflies, large and small, busy flying to
and fro. Wild flowers are seen here and there: a miscellany with or without a
name each, dotting the grass like eyes, or stars that blink from time to time.

“Blowing into your face

without making you feel cold is the spring breeze.”
True,
it
was
just
like
a
mother’s
hand
fondling
you.
The
smell
of
the
newly-cultivated
land
carried
by
the
wind
to
you,
mixed
with
that
of
the
grass as well as fragrance of various kinds of flowers, was
brewing in the
slightly-moistened
air.
Now
that
the
nestle
had
been
completed
among
luxuriant flowers and tender leaves, the birds grew happy, singing proudly to
call their friends as well as mates with their notes in perfect harmony with
the gentle breeze and gurgling water. And the cowboys on the baffalo back
can be heard blowing their flute so resonantly these days.

Rain
is nothing unusual
now, and often
lasts
two
to
three days.
Never get
annoyed!
Look,
could
it
be
ox
hair,
or
needles,
or
thin
threads
instead
?
Those
thin
threads
simply
weave
sideways,
so
densely
that
a
thin
mist
pervades over
all
the
house-tops. The tree
leaves are, however, dazzlingly
green, so is the grass with its luxuriance. When the dusk sets in and lights
are on, the the pool of dim light suggests a night of peace and quiet. In the
countryside,
on
the
trails
and
beside
the
stone
bridges,
there
are
people
strolling leisurely, holding an umbrella, and there are also farmers working
in
the
fields,
wearing
a
straw-cloak
and
a
bamboo-hat.
Their
houses,
sparsely located, stand still in the weaving rain.

Gradually, there are more and more kites in the sky and the the number of