The trees are coming into leaf 

树正在长叶子

Like something almost being said; 

彷佛在告诉我们什么；

The recent buds relax and spread, 

新芽松弛，伸展，

Their greenness is a kind of grief. 

它们的绿是一种悲哀。

Is it that they are born again 

是不是它们新生

And we grow old? No, they die too, 

而我们老去？不，它们也会死。

Their yearly trick of looking new 

它们年年变新的诡计

Is written down in rings of grain. 

写在一轮轮的纹理中。

Yet still the unresting castles thresh 

这些不止息的城堡仍然在每年

In fullgrown thickness every May. 

五月丰满厚实地奋身摆荡。

Last year is dead, they seem to say, 

去年已死，它们似乎在说，

Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

重新，重新，重新开始吧。