There is a hill near my home that I often climb at night.
　　The noise of the city is a far-off murmur①.
　　In the hush② of dark I share the cheerfulness of crickets③ and the confi dence of owls.
　　But it is the drama of the moonrise that I come to see.
　　For that restores in me a quiet and clarity④ that the city spends too freely.
　　From this hill I have watched many moons rise.
　　Each one had its own mood.
　　There have been broad， confi dent harvest moons in autumn； shy， misty moons in spring； lonely， white winter moons rising into the utter⑤ silence of an inkblack sky and smoke-smudged orange moons over the dry fi elds of summer.
　　Each， like fi ne music， excited my heart and then calmed my soul.
　　But we， who live indoors， have lost contact with the moon.
　　The glare of street lights and the dust of pollution veil the night sky.
　　Though men have walked on the moon， it grows less familiar.
　　Few of us can say what time the moon will rise tonight.
　　Still， it tugs at our minds.
　　If we unexpectedly encounter the full moon， huge and yellow over the horizon， we are helpless but to stare back at its commanding⑥ presence.
　　And the moon has gifts to bestow⑦ upon those who watch.
　　Moonlight shows us none of life’s harder edges. Hillsides seem silken and silvery， the oceans still and blue in its light.
　　In moonlight we become less calculating， more drawn to our feelings.

　　在我家附近有座小山，我常在晚間爬上山去。
　　此时，城市的喧嚣成了遥远的低语。
　　在这黑夜的静谧中，我尽情地分享蟋蟀的欢乐，感受猫头鹰的自信。
　　不过，我上山是来看月出的。
　　因为这可以让我的内心重新感到被城市消耗殆尽的平静与清新。
　　在这座山上，我欣赏过许多次月亮升起的景象。
　　每一次月的姿容性情都不同。
　　秋天，满月如轮，充满自信；春天，月亮清雾迷蒙羞羞答答；冬天，银白色的月亮挂在漆黑的、悄无声息的夜空中，显得那样孤寂；夏天，橘黄色的月似被烟尘笼罩，俯瞰干燥的田野。
　　每一种月亮，都像美妙的音乐，颤动我的心灵，令我的灵魂平静。
　　但我们这些深居室内的人，已与月亮失去了联系。
　　城市中耀眼的街灯和污染性烟尘遮住了夜空。
　　虽然人类已在月亮上行走过，但月亮对我们却更加陌生了。
　　现在已很少有人能说出今晚月亮何时升起。
　　但无论怎样，月亮依然打动我们的心灵。
　　如果我们在不经意间与地平线上的满月相遇，我们别无他法，唯有欣赏其气势逼人的美。
　　月亮对于那些赏月的人有礼物相赠。
　　月色下，我们看不到生活中坚硬的棱角。
　　山坡在月光下如同笼上了一层柔和的银纱；大海在月光下宁静碧蓝。
　　我们在月光下也不再像白日那般心计来往，而是沉醉于自然的情感中。