Only to read childrens’ books,

只读孩子们的书籍，

only to love childish things,

只为孩子的念头喜悦，

throwing away adult things,

远远吹散大人的一切，

rising from saddest looks.

从深深的忧愁中奋起。

I am wearied to death with life.

对生活我已厌倦得要死，

There’s nothing it has that I want,

我不愿再向她索取，

but I celebrate my naked earth,

但我爱我贫乏的故土

there’s no other world to descant.

因为，她是我眼中的唯一。

A plain swing of wood;

我在遥远的花园荡起

the dark, of the high fir-tree,

简陋的木头秋千

in the far-off garden, swinging;

我身处朦胧的迷幻

remembered by feverish blood.

将高大幽暗的云杉回忆。