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Oh but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet! With the sky above my head, and the grass beneath my feet,
莫负春日花草香，黄花痴长春更浓！头上蓝天脚下草，
for only one short hour to feel as I used to feel, before I knew the woes of want, and the walk that costs a meal!
觉我未觉只一消，一餐愁苦心自知！
"Oh but for one short hour, a respite, however brief!
“转瞬稍安何其短！
No blessed leisure for love or hope, but only time for grief!
闲暇怎与爱与望，仅付时光与悲伤！
A little weeping would ease my heart, but in their briny bed my tears must stop,
饮泣窃窃慰吾心，涕泪莫与海中花，
for every drop hinders needle and thread."
滴滴碍吾针线忙。”
With fingers weary and worn, with eyelids heavy and red, a woman sat, in unwomanly rags, playing her needle and thread;
手指酸软渐磨伤，眼皮沉重血丝浓，衣不遮体斜身坐，针线飞舞又穿梭；
Stitch! stitch! stitch! in poverty, hunger, and dirt,
一针一针再一针！饥寒交迫哪堪当，
and still with a voice of dolorous pitch, would that its tone could reach the rich! She sang this "Song of the Shirt."
声音悲呛引吭歌，却道是《衬衫之歌》。
