夏天的飞鸟,飞到我的窗前唱歌,又飞去了。 秋天的黄叶,它们没有什么可唱,只叹息一声,飞落在那里。 Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away. And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sign.
跳舞着的流水呀,在你途中的泥沙,要求你的歌声,你的流动呢。你肯挟 瘸足的泥沙而俱下么? The sands in your way beg for your song and your movement, dancing water. Will you carry the burden of their lameness?