里昂夜读157-树

Trees I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy（多叶的）arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair, Upon whose bosom snow has lain;, Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. 树 我想我永远不会看到 一首诗像树一样可爱。 一棵树，她饥渴的唇压在 大地流淌着甘甜乳汁的胸膛上； —棵树，她终日仰望苍天， 高举着枝繁叶茂的胳膊，祈祷着； 夏天，会有一窝知更鸟 在树的头发里栖息； 冬天，树的胸前堆积着白雪， 她和雨亲密地相处。 诗可以由像我这样的傻瓜来写， 但树只能由上帝来创造。