卡尔·桑德堡
The childs wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue,“See the moon!”
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
孩子的驚叹
随着那轮古老的月亮
每晚去而复回。
她用小手指着
那一轮遥远的、寂静的鹅黄
从枝丫间倾泻而下
透过叶的筛子,洒落一地黄沙,
一个稚嫩的声音惊呼:“看,月亮!”
躺在床上,渐入梦乡
小嘴还呢喃着:月亮,月亮!