tōng guò jīng guǎn cuī dòng huā duǒ de 
tōng guò jīng guǎn cuī dòng huā duǒ de The force that through the green fuse drives the flower

shīrén: lán · tuō Dylan Thomas
   tōng guò jīng guǎn cuī dòng huā duǒ de
   cuī dòng de nián huáhuǐ miè shù gēn de
   shì hài de guì shǒu
   jiān gào gōulóu de méi guī
   zhèng shì zhè tóng yàng de dōng tiān zhī bìng huǐ sǔn liǎo de qīng chūn
  
   cuī dòng quán shuǐ guò yán féng de cuī dòng
   xiān hóng de xuè shǐ dāo de xiǎo gān de
   shǐ de xuè níng
   jiān duì de mài guǎn zhāng kǒu
   tóng shuāng zuǐ chún zěn yàng gān liǎo shān quán
  
   jiǎo dòng zhe hóng chí shuǐ de zhǐ shǒu
   jiǎo dòng liú shāqiān yǐn kuáng fēng de shǒu
   chě dòng de shī chuán fān
   jiān gào zǒu shàng jiǎo jià de rén
   de ròu zhì chéng liǎo jiǎo xíng de huá shí fěn
  
   shí jiān de zuǐ chún xiàng shuǐ zhì shǔn zhe quán yuán
   ài qíng luò yòu níng dàn liú xià xuè
   jiāng wèi de chuàng xián
   jiān gào biàn huàn dìng de fēng 'ér
   shí jiān zěn yàng huán rào zhe fán xīng záo chū tiān qióng
  
   jiān gào qíng rén de xué
   de chuáng dān shàng dòng zhe yàng de chóng


  The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
  Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
  Is my destroyer.
  And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
  My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
  
  The force that drives the water through the rocks
  Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
  Turns mine to wax.
  And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
  How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.
  
  The hand that whirls the water in the pool
  Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
  Hauls my shroud sail.
  And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
  How my clay is made the hangman's lime.
  
  The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
  Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
  Shall calm her sores.
  And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
  How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
  
  And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
  How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.