早....黎明时分从茅屋出来，在黎明的灰蒙蒙中爬上小山;随着年轻的风从蓝色的东方吹来，在白色的阳光下变红!孤独而清澈，像一个深沉明亮的梦，在午夜和睡梦的溪水下，山峰在日出的阵雨中升起，像一个王国一样广阔，像一朵花一样美丽:在它上面，树叶的泡沫在生动的柔软中跳跃，宁静，珍珠紫和大理石绿;在它们混合的色彩中清晰，向上，直到那点缀着云崖光泽的天空的边缘。的一天。就像鸟儿从它们潜伏的巢穴中磨出了磨损，就像涟漪在狂暴的裂缝下荡漾，回声再一次回响，从山岗上热烈地飞下来;斧声，锯声。又红又白的筹码，就像选美王撒下的钱;自由的木头屈服于被驱动的楔子，带着白色的凹边，心在阳光下闪闪发光。 Broadly the ice-clear azure floods down, Where the great tree-tops are overthrown; As on through the endless day we labour; The sun for our nearest neighbour, Up o'er the mountains lone. And so intensely it doth illume, That it shuts by times to gloom; In the open spaces thrilling; From the dead leaves distilling A hot and harsh perfume. Evening. Give over! All the valleys in sight Fill, fill with the rising tide of night; While the sunset with gold-dust bridges The black-ravined ridges, Whose mighty muscles curve in its light. In our weary climb, while night dyes deep, Down the broken and stony steep, How our jaded bodies are shaken By each step in half-blindness taken -- One's thoughts lie heaped like brutes asleep. Open the door of the dismal hut, Silence and darkness lone were shut In it, as a tidal pool, until returning Night drowns the land, -- no ember's burning, -- One is too weary the food to cut. Body and soul with every blow, Wasted for ever, and who will know, Where, past this mountained night of toiling, Red life in its thousand veins is boiling, Of chips scattered on the mountain's brow?