来吧，上这儿来吧，孩子们！

Come to me, O ye children!

我听见你们嬉笑游玩，

For I hear you at your play,

那些叫我烦恼的问题

And the questions that perplexed me

就都一下子烟消云散。

Have vanished quite away.

你们把东边窗户打开，

Ye open the eastern windows,

初升的太阳正在窗外，

That look towards the sun,

那儿，思绪像呢喃的燕子，

Where thoughts are singing swallows

像清晨的溪水，流得欢快。

And the brooks of morning run.

你们心里有鸟儿和阳光，

In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine,

你们思想里有小溪流过；

In your thoughts the brooklet's flow,

我这儿却只有秋天的凄风

But in mine is the wind of Autumn

和冬天第一次雪花飘落。

And the first fall of the snow.

啊！若是没有了孩子，

Ah! what would the world be to us

那还算得个什么世界？

If the children were no more?

我们会惧怕身后的荒凉

We should dread the desert behind us

甚于惧怕眼前的黑夜。

Worse than the dark before.

好比嫩绿的树叶在林间，

What the leaves are to the forest,

把阳光空气当作主食，

With light and air for food,

叶片中甜美清新的汁液

Ere their sweet and tender juices

还不曾化为坚硬的木质，——

Have been hardened into wood,—

孩子在世间也是这般，

That to the world are children;

凭着他们，世人才感到

Through them it feels the glow

天气比树干所接触的更好，

Of a brighter and sunnier climate

阳光也更明亮地照耀。

Than reaches the trunks below.

来吧，上这儿来吧，孩子们！

Come to me, O ye children!

在我耳边悄悄告诉我：

And whisper in my ear

你们晴朗温和的天气里，

What the birds and the winds are singing

鸟儿和风儿在唱些什么。

In your sunny atmosphere.

算得了什么，书上的学问？

For what are all our contrivings,

算得了什么，我们的事业？

And the wisdom of our books,

哪里比得上你们的爱抚

When compared with your caresses,

和你们脸上甜蜜的笑靥？

And the gladness of your looks?

历来说说唱唱的歌谣

Ye are better than all the ballads

没有哪一首比得上你们；

That ever were sung or said;

只有你们是活的诗篇，

For ye are living poems,

别的诗都是死气沉沉。

And all the rest are dead.