从无休止地摇着的摇篮里出来，从反舌鸟的喉咙里出来，音乐的梭子，从九月的午夜里出来，越过贫瘠的沙滩，越过远处的田野，孩子离开他的床，光着头，光着脚，独自游荡，从雨点的光环下下来，从神秘的影子的游戏中升起，它们缠绕着，扭动着，仿佛它们是有生命的，从一片片的荆棘和黑莓中出来，从对我吟唱的鸟儿的记忆中，从你的记忆中，忧伤的兄弟——我听见那断断续续的起起伏伏，从那迟升的黄半月形的月亮下，仿佛被泪水淹没，从那透明的薄雾中，我听见那病痛和爱情的开头音符，从我心中那千百种永不停息的回应，从那无数从空中发出的话语，从那比任何话语都更有力、更动听的话语，从它们现在开始，那景色重新出现，像鸟群啁啾，升起，或从头顶飞过，我被带到这里——一切都匆匆地逃离了我，一个男人——但由于这些眼泪，我又变成了一个小男孩，我扑在沙滩上，迎着海浪，吟唱着痛苦和欢乐，把今生和来世结合在一起，抓住一切暗示——但又迅速跃过它们，唱出一首怀旧的歌。一次,美国供应连锁集团Paumanok,当雪融化——lilac-scent在空中时,草和第五个月增长,海滨,在某些蒺藜,两位客人来自阿拉巴马州——两个在一起,和他们的巢穴,和四个浅绿色鸡蛋,发现与布朗和he-bird每天来回,近在咫尺,和每天she-bird,蹲在她的巢,沉默,明亮的眼睛,和我的每一天,一个好奇的男孩,从来没有太近,不要打扰他们,30谨慎地凝视,吸收,在翻译上。发光!发光!发光!倾注你的温暖，伟大的太阳!当我们晒太阳的时候，我们俩在一起。 Two together! Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains from home, Singing all time, minding no time, While we two keep together. 40 Till of a sudden, May-be kill'd, unknown to her mate, One forenoon the she-bird crouch'd not on the nest, Nor return'd that afternoon, nor the next, Nor ever appear'd again. And thenceforward, all summer, in the sound of the sea, And at night, under the full of the moon, in calmer weather, Over the hoarse surging of the sea, Or flitting from brier to brier by day, I saw, I heard at intervals, the remaining one, the he-bird, 50 The solitary guest from Alabama. Blow! blow! blow! Blow up, sea-winds, along Paumanok's shore! I wait and I wait, till you blow my mate to me. Yes, when the stars glisten'd, All night long, on the prong of a moss-scallop'd stake, Down, almost amid the slapping waves, Sat the lone singer, wonderful, causing tears. He call'd on his mate; He pour'd forth the meanings which I, of all men, know. 60 Yes, my brother, I know; The rest might not--but I have treasur'd every note; For once, and more than once, dimly, down to the beach gliding, Silent, avoiding the moonbeams, blending myself with the shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white arms out in the breakers tirelessly tossing, I, with bare feet, a child, the wind wafting my hair, Listen'd long and long. Listen'd, to keep, to sing--now translating the notes, Following you, my brother. 70 Soothe! soothe! soothe! Close on its wave soothes the wave behind, And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close, But my love soothes not me, not me. Low hangs the moon--it rose late; O it is lagging--O I think it is heavy with love, with love. O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land, With love--with love. O night! do I not see my love fluttering out there among the breakers? What is that little black thing I see there in the white? 80 Loud! loud! loud! Loud I call to you, my love! High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves; Surely you must know who is here, is here; You must know who I am, my love. Low-hanging moon! What is that dusky spot in your brown yellow? O it is the shape, the shape of my mate! O moon, do not keep her from me any longer. Land! land! O land! 90 Whichever way I turn, O I think you could give me my mate back again, if you only would; For I am almost sure I see her dimly whichever way I look. O rising stars! Perhaps the one I want so much will rise, will rise with some of you. O throat! O trembling throat! Sound clearer through the atmosphe