June Morning
Hugh McCrae
The twisted apple, with rain and magian fire.
Caught in its branches from the early dawn,
I, from my bed, through the fogged pane see, and desire
Of its sharp sweetness, something: green the lawn
And stiff with pointed spears of daffodils run wild;
The sluggard sun draws the drowned Daphne back to life—
And all the drowsy doves, brown sparrows, husband, wife,
Are stirring on the housetops—child to early child
Coo-eeing and calling; blind windows open eyes…
And in the air the bitter fragrance floats
Of someone’s gardener’s pipe; I will arise
And in the stinging shower forget gold motes.
Thick pillows, blankets, books; travel the wholesome road
And give my body to the sun
清晨的小雨中，
苹果树扭动着烈艳飞舞的枝条，
从床上坐起身，
薄雾蒙蒙的小径依稀树影轻摇，
向往那股浓香，
绿茵间那黄水仙挺拔姿若尖矛
日光懒懒升起，
投水的月桂神苏醒来分外妖娆
鸟儿们才刚醒，
白鸽，灰雀睡意朦胧耷拉着眼角
还有两口子呐，
躲在房顶说笑唧唧喳喳兴致老高。
小孩子的哭闹，
伴和着咕咕的鸟鸣
窗子透进光亮，
谁家园内苦涩的清香在风中轻飘；
我该起床了罢，
沐浴灼热将金色的尘埃抛上九霄。
带上厚厚枕头
毛毯和书在阳光小道上尽情逍遥。