树木快要长出新叶

The trees are coming into leaf 

仿佛即将说出什么;

Like something almost being said; 

刚出的嫩芽松开并伸展

The recent buds relax and spread, 

它们的新绿是某种悲哀。

Their greenness is a kind of grief. 

是否它们得以再生

Is it that they are born again 

而我们却要老去?不，它们也将死去。

And we grow old? No, they die too, 

那些年年新绿的把戏

Their yearly trick of looking new 

都写进了一圈圈的年轮。

Is written down in rings of grain. 

但这不停摇曳的树林城堡

Yet still the unresting castles thresh 

每到五月依然枝繁叶茂。

In fullgrown thickness every May. 

去年已死，它们仿佛在说，

Last year is dead, they seem to say, 

让我们重新，重新，重新开始。

Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.