The first sparrow of spring！  The year beginning with younger hope than ever！  The faint silvery warblings heard over the partially bare and moist fields from the bluebird， the song sparrow，and the red-wing， as if the last flakes of winter tinkled as they fell！  What at such a time are histories， chronologies， traditions，and all written revelations？  The brooks sing carols and glees to the spring.  The marsh hawk， sailing low over the meadow， is already seeking the first slimy life that awakes.  The sinking sound of melting snow is heard in all dells， and the ice dissolves apace in the ponds.  The grass flames up on the hillsides like a spring fire―― "et primitus oritur herba imbribus primoribus evocata" ―― as if the earth sent forth an inward heat to greet the returning sun； not yellow but green is the color of its flame； ―― the symbol of perpetual youth， the grass-blade， like a long green ribbon， streams from the sod into the summer， checked indeed by the frost， but anon pushing on again， lifting its spear of last year's hay with the fresh life below.  It grows as steadily as the rill oozes out of the ground.  It is almost identical with that， for in the growing days of June， when the rills are dry， the grass-blades are their channels， and from year to year the herds drink at this perennial green stream， and the mower draws from it betimes their winter supply.  So our human life but dies down to its root， and still puts forth its green blade to eternity.

　　Walden is melting apace.  There is a canal two rods wide along the northerly and westerly sides， and wider still at the east end. A great field of ice has cracked off from the main body.  I hear a song sparrow singing from the bushes on the shore ―― olit， olit，olit ―― chip， chip， chip， che char ―― che wiss， wiss， wiss.  He too is helping to crack it.  How handsome the great sweeping curves in the edge of the ice， answering somewhat to those of the shore， but more regular！  It is unusually hard， owing to the recent severe but transient cold， and all watered or waved like a palace floor.  But the wind slides eastward over its opaque surface in vain， till it reaches the living surface beyond.  It is glorious to behold this ribbon of water sparkling in the sun， the bare face of the pond full of glee and youth， as if it spoke the joy of the fishes within it，and of the sands on its shore ―― a silvery sheen as from the scales of a leuciscus， as it were all one active fish.  Such is the contrast between winter and spring.  Walden was dead and is alive again.  But this spring it broke up more steadily， as I have said.

　　The change from storm and winter to serene and mild weather，from dark and sluggish hours to bright and elastic ones， is a memorable crisis which all things proclaim.  It is seemingly instantaneous at last.  Suddenly an influx of light filled my house，though the evening was at hand， and the clouds of winter still overhung it， and the eaves were dripping with sleety rain.  I looked out the window， and lo！ where yesterday was cold gray ice there lay the transparent pond already calm and full of hope as in a summer evening， reflecting a summer evening sky in its bosom， though none was visible overhead， as if it had intelligence with some remote horizon.  I heard a robin in the distance， the first I had heard for many a thousand years， methought， whose note I shall not forget for many a thousand more ―― the same sweet and powerful song as of yore. O the evening robin， at the end of a New England summer day！  If I could ever find the twig he sits upon！  I mean he； I mean the twig. This at least is not the Turdus migratorius.  The pitch pines and shrub oaks about my house， which had so long drooped， suddenly resumed their several characters， looked brighter， greener， and more erect and alive， as if effectually cleansed and restored by the rain.  I knew that it would not rain any more.  You may tell by looking at any twig of the forest， ay， at your very wood-pile，whether its winter is past or not.  As it grew darker， I was startled by the honking of geese flying low over the woods， like weary travellers getting in late from Southern lakes， and indulging at last in unrestrained complaint and mutual consolation.  Standing at my door， I could bear the rush of their wings； when， driving toward my house， they suddenly spied my light， and with hushed clamor wheeled and settled in the pond.  So I came in， and shut the door， and passed my first spring night in the woods.

　　春天的第一只麻雀！這一年又在從來沒有這樣年輕的希望之中開始了！最初聽到很微弱的銀色的啁啾之聲傳過了一部分還光禿禿的，潤濕的田野，那是發(fā)自青鳥、籬雀和紅翼鶇的，仿佛冬天的最后的雪花在叮當(dāng)?shù)仫h落！在這樣的一個時候，歷史、編年紀(jì)、傳說，一切啟示的文字又算得了什么！小溪向春天唱贊美詩和四部曲。沼澤上的鷹隼低低地飛翔地草地上，已經(jīng)在尋覓那初醒的脆弱的生物了。在所有的谷中，聽得到溶雪的滴答之聲，而湖上的冰在迅速地溶化。小草像春火在山腰燃燒起來了，――“et primi tus oritur herba imbribus primoribus evo-cata，”――好像大地送上了一個內(nèi)在的熱力來迎候太陽的歸來；而火焰的顏色，不是黃的，是綠的，――永遠(yuǎn)的青春的象征，那草葉，像一根長長的綠色緞帶，從草地上流出來流向夏季。是的，它給霜雪阻攔過，可是它不久又在向前推進(jìn)，舉起了去年的干草的長莖，讓新的生命從下面升起來。它像小泉源的水從地下淙淙的冒出來一樣。它與小溪幾乎是一體的，因為在六月那些長日之中，小溪已經(jīng)干涸了，這些草葉成了它的小道，多少個年代來，牛羊從這永恒的青色的溪流上飲水，到了時候，刈草的人把它們割去供給冬天的需要。我們?nèi)祟惖纳词菇^滅，只是絕滅不了根，那根上仍能茁生綠色的草葉，至于永恒。

　　瓦爾登湖迅速地溶冰了。靠北，靠西有一道兩桿闊的運(yùn)河，流到了東西更闊。一大部分的冰從它的主體上裂開了。我聽到一只籬雀在岸上灌木林中唱著，――歐利，歐利，歐利，――吉潑，吉潑，吉潑，詫，卻爾，――詫，維斯，維斯，維斯。它也在幫忙破裂冰塊，冰塊邊沿的那樣巨大的曲線是何等的瀟灑，跟湖岸多少有著呼應(yīng)，可是要規(guī)則得多了！這是出奇的堅硬，因為最近曾有一度短短的嚴(yán)寒時期，冰上都有著波紋，真像一個皇宮的地板。可是風(fēng)徒然向東拂過它不透光的表面，直到吹皺那遠(yuǎn)處活的水波。看這緞帶似的水在陽光底下閃耀，真是太光輝燦爛了，湖的顏容上充滿了快活和青春，似乎它也說明了游魚之樂，以及湖岸上的細(xì)沙的歡恰。這是銀色的夠魚魚鱗上的光輝，整個湖仿佛是一條活躍的魚。冬天和春天的對比就是這樣。瓦爾登死而復(fù)生了。可是我已經(jīng)說過，這一個春天湖開凍得更為從容不迫。

　　從暴風(fēng)雪和冬天轉(zhuǎn)換到晴朗而柔和的天氣，從黑暗而遲緩的時辰轉(zhuǎn)換到光亮和富于彈性的時刻，這種轉(zhuǎn)化是一切事物都在宣告著的很值得紀(jì)念的重大轉(zhuǎn)變。最后它似乎是突如其來的。突然，注入的光明充滿了我的屋子，雖然那時已將近黃昏了，而且冬天的灰云還布滿天空，雨雪之后的水珠還從檐上落下來。我從窗口望出去，瞧！昨天還是灰色的寒冰的地方，橫陳著湖的透明的皓體，已經(jīng)像一個夏日的傍晚似的平靜，充滿了希望，在它的胸懷上反映了一個夏季的夕陽天，雖然上空還看不到這樣的云彩，但是它仿佛已經(jīng)和一個遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)的天空心心相印了。我聽到有一只知更鳥在遠(yuǎn)處叫，我想，我好像有幾千年沒有聽到它了。雖然它的樂音是再過幾千年我也決不會忘記的，――它還是那樣甜蜜而有力量，像過去的歌聲一樣。啊，黃昏的知更烏，在新英格蘭的夏日的天空下！

　　但愿我能找到他棲立的樹枝！我指的是他；我說的是那樹枝。至少這不是Turdus migra to-rius.我的屋子周圍的蒼松和矮橡樹，垂頭喪氣已久，突然又恢復(fù)了它們的好些個性，看上去更光亮，更蒼翠，更挺拔，更生氣蓬勃了，好像它們給雨水有效地洗過，復(fù)蘇了一樣。我知道再不會下雨。看看森林中任何一個枝椏，是的，看看你那一堆燃料，你可以知道冬天過去沒有。天色漸漸黑下來，我給飛鵝的映聲驚起，它們低飛過森林，像疲倦的旅行家，從南方的湖上飛來，到得已經(jīng)遲了，終于大訴其苦，而且互相安慰著。站在門口，我能聽到它們拍翅膀的聲音；而向我的屋子方向近來時，突然發(fā)現(xiàn)了我的燈火，喋喋的聲浪忽然靜下來，它們盤旋而去，停在湖上。于是我回進(jìn)屋子里，關(guān)上門，在森林中度過我的第一個春宵。

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