To the Cuckoo
O blithe new-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear;
From hill to hill it seems to pass
At once far off, and near.
Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.
Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even ye thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice a mystery;
The same whom in my schoolboy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.
And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.
O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place;
That is fit home for thee!
致布谷鳥
威廉華·茲華斯
啊，快樂的新客！
聽到你囀鳴，我滿懷喜悅；
啊，布谷，是否稱你為鳥？
或為妙音，回蕩清越？
當我躺在草地上，
聽到你的二重唱：
似從這山傳到那山，
似在近旁，又在遠方。
你的歌聲在山谷回蕩，
伴著繁華和陽光；
你還把我帶到
追憶往事的幻想。
我再三地歡迎
你是陽春的先行。
在我眼中，你可不是鳥，
而是無形的神奇之音。
想當年我還是小學生，
曾傾聽同樣的鳴聲；
我千方百計尋找，
從天上到叢林。
我時常漫游，為了找你，
踩著草地，穿過密林；
如今仍在期待，雖不眼見，
你仍是希望，是戀情。
此刻我躺在平原，
你的歌聲仍能聽見。
我專心諦聽，
直到召回金色的童年。
我們棲息的大地
又顯得空靈而神奇；
這是你安家的福地，
啊， 快樂的鳥兒，祝福你！