第208章 小寒

Out of the bosom of the Air,

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

——Snow-Flakes, Poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

从漠漠长空中逸出,

自她云衣的褶皱间簌簌而下,

向着枯黄而光秃的林地,

向着收割后的荒凉田野,

无声、轻柔、舒缓地

落下了雪。

——《雪花》亨利·华兹华斯·朗费罗,诗人