There Will Come Soft Rain

    by Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rain and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,

And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one

Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,

If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn

Would scarcely know that we were gone.

    细雨将至

    萨拉.蒂丝黛尔

    译/行路人 2020.01.12

细雨将至，带来泥土的芬芳，

燕子叽叽喳喳盘旋飞翔，

青蛙在池塘里整夜歌唱，

野李树抖动素衣白裳；

知更鸟的胸羽闪烁如火焰，

在矮栏上啾啾地斗嘴嘻玩。

没谁知晓战争因何起，

没谁关心何时才有结局。

假如人类彻底地毁灭，

鸟儿与树，不会去叹嗟；

而春天，她若在清晨醒来，

不会觉察我们已是旧日尘埃。