Chapter 13 grasshopper and cricket
grasshopper and cricket
The poetry of the earth never dies:
When the scorching sun makes the birds faint,
Hide in the shade, but there is a voice
On the edge of the grass, the smell of tree poles drifts endlessly;
That is the Grasshopper leading the drink, in the luxurious summer
Its joys are never exhausted,
For if it sings too wearily,
Just enjoy a moment of leisure under the grass inch.
The poetry of the earth never ceases:
On lonely winter nights, when frost and snow
Weaving a silence, the cricket by the hearth
Singing shrieks, singing rising with temperature,
To hear in a trance in drowsiness,
The song of the grasshopper on the grassy hillside.
(Translated by Fei Bai)