Through winter-time we call on spring
And through the spring on summer call
And when abounding hedges ring
Declare that winter‘s best of all
And after that there ‘s nothing good
Because the spring-time has not come
Nor know that what disturbs our blood
Is but its longing for the tomb

冬天里我们呼唤和煦的春光，
春天里我们期待夏天的骄阳，
当繁茂的绿篱秋风瑟瑟，
又说冬天最该赞赏；
可冬天来了又一无是处，
因为春天还未重新登场，
难以明白困扰生命的活力，
无非是对坟墓的渴望。