The trees are coming into leaf 

那些树新叶翕张，

Like something almost being said; 

像几乎说出的秘密一样，

The recent buds relax and spread, 

尖尖的蓓蕾松开绽放，

Their greenness is a kind of grief. 

而绿色是，释放的忧伤。

Is it that they are born again 

这是不是再次重生，当老去

And we grow old? No, they die too, 

的我们？不，他们同样逝去，

Their yearly trick of looking new 

年年如新的诡计，

Is written down in rings of grain. 

年轮上记录得详细。

Yet still the unresting castles thresh 

然而，不安的城堡依然跃跃，

In fullgrown thickness every May. 

在每一个浓情欲滴的五月；

Last year is dead, they seem to say, 

去年已去，他们不停地絮语，

Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

让我们重来吧、重来吧、重来吧。