The song of birds heralds the approach of spring.
百报春到。
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All about my garden to-day the birds are loud. To say that the air is filled with their song gives no idea of the ceaseless piping, whistling, trilling, which at moments rings to heaven in a triumphant unison, a wild accord.
今天在我花园周围,鸟儿很吵。说空气中充满了
歌声,却丝毫没有想到不断
笛声、口哨声、颤音,它
时不时以一种胜利
齐鸣、一种狂野
协奏响彻天空。