只读给孩子的书，

Only to read childrens’ books,

只珍视孩子们的思想，

only to love childish things,

将大人的一切抛到九霄云外，

throwing away adult things,

从深深的忧愁中站起身来。

rising from saddest looks.

我已烦透极度压抑的生活，

I am wearied to death with life.

它带来的一切我都不要，

There’s nothing it has that I want,

但我爱这贫瘠的土地，

but I celebrate my naked earth,

除了这土地我什么也看不到。

there’s no other world to descant.

我身在一处遥远的花园

A plain swing of wood;

荡着简陋的木秋千，

the dark, of the high fir-tree,

并在阴郁的神志不清里

in the far-off garden, swinging;

记起高大、黝黑的云杉。

remembered by feverish blood.