When the grass was closely mown,
Walking on the lawn alone,
In the turf a hole I found,
And hid a soldier underground.
Spring and daisies came apace;
Grasses hide my hiding place;
Grasses run like a green sea
O'er the lawn up to my knee.
Under grass alone he lies,
Looking up with leaden eyes,
Scarlet coat and pointed gun,
To the stars and to the sun.
When the grass is ripe like grain,
When the scythe is stoned again,
When the lawn is shaven clear,
Then my hole shall reappear.
I shall find him, never fear,
I shall find my grenadier;
But for all that's gone and come,
I shall find my soldier dumb.
He has lived, a little thing,
In the grassy woods of spring;
Done, if he could tell me true,
Just as I should like to do.
He has seen the starry hours
And the springing of the flowers;
And the fairy things that pass
In the forests of the grass.
In the silence he has heard
Talking bee and ladybird,
And the butterfly has flown
O'er him as he lay alone.
Not a word will he disclose,
Not a word of all he knows.
I must lay him on the shelf,
And make up the tale myself.
哑士兵
青草快收割完的时光，
我一个人走在草场上，
在地面发现了一个洞，
我就把玩具兵藏在其中。
春天戴着雏菊匆匆走来，
青草又把我的洞穴掩埋。
长草奔流，像一片绿色的海，
漫过草坪，直涌上我的膝盖。
他独自躺在青草下面，
铅灰的眼睛呆望着天，
穿着红外套，举着枪，
瞄向星星，瞄向太阳。
当草儿和麦穗一样黄，
当镰刀又磨得闪闪亮，
当草地修剪得平平展展，
我的洞穴就会再次出现。
我会找到他，别担心，
我会找到我的小步兵。
一切来了，又会走，
可哑士兵会把我等候。
他呀，这个小不点，
度过了草丛里的春天。
他做的，要是能讲给我听，
一定就是我想做的事情。
他凝望过星空，
还有花朵的绽放
还有过路的精灵
在长草森林里穿行。
他在寂静中聆听
蜜蜂和瓢虫谈心，
他独自一人看着
蝴蝶从头上飞过。
他一个字也不说，
什么也不告诉我。
我只好把他放上书架
再自己编出这个童话。
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