In a yellow pond there are white ducks swimming，
　　Only a little taller than people， sorghums are still green.
　　Where should I put， in this pounding heart，
　　A narrow path in the field， this sadness in August？
　　Rain washed the sky clean last night，
　　Sun shines on hills and leaves some shadows;
　　Sheep follow the shepherd into the village，
　　And shading a well， a big tree looks like a heart！
　　No one ever spoke of August，
　　Summer is over， and fall isn’t here.
　　I look onto a farmland， and then at the squashes over the earth wall，
　　I just don’t understand how life and dream connect.
　　黄水塘里游着白鸭，
　　高粱梗油青的刚高过头，
　　这跳动的心怎样安插，
　　田里一窄条路，八月里这忧愁？
　　天是昨夜雨洗过的，
　　山岗照着太阳又留一片影;
　　羊跟着放羊的转进村庄，
　　一大棵樹荫下罩着井，又像是心！
　　从没有人说过八月什么话，
　　夏天过去了，也不到秋天。
　　但我望着田垄，土墙上的瓜，
　　仍不明白生活同梦怎样的连牵。