丰收的海岬上，罂粟旗的仙女军团闪过又逃，百合花像幽灵般凋谢，成熟的玫瑰在花坛上腐烂。谷粒收割了，花朵凋谢了，旋花在雪花莲上发芽了?她的棺材，在她的金缕是银线的第一缕白发?头?今年。像一个无赖，从一个没有靴子的自夸，火风回到他的北方，疾驰到一个遥远的海边，那里的星星都死了，在一个幽灵出没的海岸的鬃毛。在无语的恐惧中思念着苍茫的旷野，在苍茫的高地上悲哀着?为雪花落在美丽的头上而悲伤?为了第一根白头发吗?头?今年。 Time trysts with Death at the finger-post, Where the broken issues of life are wed? Intone no dirges, fill up the toast To the troops that trip it with silent tread, Merry we?ll make it tho? skies be lead, And March-wind?s moan be a minstrel drear? A truce to trouble!?we?ll drink instead To the first grey hair i? the head o? the year. South Esk sings on where the furze-fires spread, But we?ll mourn no more as of old, my dear, When gorse flames golden and briars flush red With the first grey hair i? the head o? the year.