一个孩子说，草是什么?用双手把它给我拿来;我怎么能回答那孩子呢?. . . .我跟他一样，也不知道那是什么。我想那一定是我性格的旗帜，用充满希望的绿色材料编织而成。或者我猜那是上帝的手绢，是一件有香味的礼物，是特意放下来的纪念品，在角落的某个地方刻着主人的名字，这样我们就可以看到和评论，并说:谁的?或者我想草本身就是一个孩子. . . .是植物的宝贝。或者我猜这是一个统一的象形文字，它的意思是，在广阔的地区和狭窄的地区都一样地发芽，在黑人和白人中一样地生长，卡努克人、塔卡霍人、国会议员、卡夫人，我给他们的是一样的，我收到的也是一样的。现在在我看来，它是坟墓里美丽的未剪的头发。我要温柔地用你卷曲的草，也许你从年轻人的胸脯里散发出来，也许我早认识他们，我会爱他们;也许你们是从老人、女人、从刚离开母亲怀抱的孩子那里来的，现在你们就是母亲的怀抱。 This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers, Darker than the colorless beards of old men, Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths. O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues! And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing. I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps. What do you think has become of the young and old men? What do you think has become of the women and children? They are alive and well somewhere; The smallest sprouts show there is really no death, And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it, And ceased the moment life appeared. All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses, And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.