我獨自在橫跨過田地的路上走著，夕陽像一個守財奴似的，正藏起它的最后的金子。
　　The daylight sank deeper and deeper into the darkness, and the widowed land, whose harvest had been reaped, lay silent.
　　白晝更加深沉地投入黑暗之中，那已經(jīng)收割了的孤寂的田地，默默地躺在那里。
　　Suddenly a boy's shrill voice rose into the sky. He traversed the dark unseen, leaving the track of his song across the hush of the evening.
　　天空里突然升起了一個男孩子的尖銳的歌聲。他穿過看不見的黑暗，留下他的歌聲的轍痕跨過黃昏的靜謐。
　　His village home lay there at the end of the waste land, beyond the sugar-cane field, hidden among the shadows of the banana and the slender areca palm, the cocoa-nut and the dark green jack-fruit trees.
　　他的鄉(xiāng)村的家坐落在荒涼的邊上，在甘蔗田的后面，躲藏在香蕉樹，瘦長的檳榔樹，椰子樹和深綠色的賈克果樹的陰影里。
　　I stopped for a moment in my lonely way under the starlight, and saw spread before me the darkened earth surrounding with her arms countless homes furnished with cradles and beds, mothers' hearts and evening lamps, and young lives glad with a gladness that knows nothing of its value for the world.
　　我在星光下獨自走著的路上停留了一會，我看見黑沉沉的大地展開在我的面前，用 她的手臂擁抱著無量數(shù)的家庭，在那些家庭里有著搖籃和床鋪，母親們的心和夜晚的燈，還有年輕輕的生命，他們滿心歡樂，卻渾然不知這樣的歡樂對于世界的價值。