在秋天的迁徙飞行中,天鹅们化身为长着翅膀的飞仙,似银箭一般刺破蓝天,此情此景不免会勾起诗意愁绪来:光阴渐长,时日变短,又是一年将来到。
Swans on their autumnal migratory flight—the celestial flutter of wings, the silver arrow of a flock splitting the sky—evoke poetic melancholy. Shadows lengthen. Days shorten. Another year closes in.
山坡上的橡树林,树叶凋落,风儿嚎啕过处,犹如猛虎下山,威风振振。花岗石崖上,青苔斑斑,也似奇异画面;银松林里,白色茫茫。
I can roar through the leafless oaks and shout down the hillside, and it can murmur in the white pines rooted among the granite ledges where lichen makes strange hieroglyphics.
她的嗓音婉转似汩汩的银溪。
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