To the Cuckoo
O blithe new-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird,
Or but a wandering Voice?
While I am lying on the grass
Thy twofold shout I hear;
From hill to hill it seems to pass
At once far off, and near.
Though babbling only to the Vale,
Of sunshine and of flowers,
Thou bringest unto me a tale
Of visionary hours.
Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring!
Even ye thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice a mystery;
The same whom in my schoolboy days
I listened to; that Cry
Which made me look a thousand ways
In bush, and tree, and sky.
To seek thee did I often rove
Through woods and on the green;
And thou wert still a hope, a love;
Still longed for, never seen.
And I can listen to thee yet;
Can lie upon the plain
And listen, till I do beget
That golden time again.
O blessed Bird! the earth we pace
Again appears to be
An unsubstantial, faery place;
That is fit home for thee!
致布谷鸟
啊，快乐的新客!
听到你啭鸣，我满怀喜悦;
啊，布谷，是否称你为鸟?
或为妙音，回荡清越?
当我躺在草地上，
听到你的二重唱：
似从这山传到那山，
似在近旁，又在远方。
你的歌声在山谷回荡，
伴着繁华和阳光;
你还把我带到
追忆往事的幻想。
我再三地欢迎
你是阳春的先行。
在我眼中，你可不是鸟，
而是无形的神奇之音。
想当年我还是小学生，
曾倾听同样的鸣声;
我千方百计寻找，
从天上到丛林。
我时常漫游，为了找你，
踩着草地，穿过密林;
如今仍在期待，虽不眼见，
你仍是希望，是恋情。
此刻我躺在平原，
你的歌声仍能听见。
我专心谛听，
直到召回金色的童年。
我们栖息的大地
又显得空灵而神奇;
这是你安家的福地，
啊, 快乐的鸟儿，祝福你!
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