有一個孩子向前走去
有一個孩子每天向前走去，
他看見最初的東西，他就變成那東西，
那東西就變成了他的一部分，在那一天，或者那一天的一部分，或者幾年，或者連綿很多年。
或者是早開的紫丁香，那麼它會變成這個孩子的一部分，
還有那青草，那絢麗的朝霞，那紅色白色的苜蓿草，以及那菲比鳥的啾鳴，
還有那三個月大的小羊羔，淡粉色的一窩小豬，小馬駒和小牛犢，還有穀倉空地上或泥濘的池塘邊那嘰嘰喳喳的小雞一家，還有池中好奇的魚兒，以及那美麗的迷人的湖水，還有池中的水草，優雅地搖曳著
所有的這一切，都成了這個孩子的一部分。
四五月間田地里的幼苗變成了他的一部分，
還有冬季淺黃色的玉米苗兒，
綴滿花朵的蘋果樹，以及路邊最普通的野草，
從小旅館踉蹌而歸的醉老漢，
路過這裡到學校去的女教師，途經這裡的爭吵的男孩子，整潔而面帶羞澀的小姑娘，
以及他所看到的城市和鄉村的一切變化。
母親把一盤盤噴香的菜端到餐桌上，言語溫和，穿戴整潔，走過時身上和衣服上散發出健康的芳香，
父親強壯，自負，魁偉；吝嗇，愛發脾氣，不公正，
急促而響亮的言談，苛刻的討價還價，耍手腕的本領，
那無法否認的慈愛.
日落時遠遠看到的高地上的村莊，
中間的河流，陰影，光暈,霧靄和夕照，
近處那些懶懶地順流而下的帆船，
紛紛翻滾的波濤，層層迭迭的彩雲，孤單地呆在一旁的紫醬色霞帶，
地平線的邊緣，飛繞的海鷗，和海岸泥土的馥郁,
這些都變成那個孩子的一部分。
那個天天向前走的孩子，
他正在走，
他將永遠天天向前。
There was a Child Went Forth
There was a child went forth every day,
And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder or pity or love or dread, that object he became,
And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day . . . . or for many years or stretching cycles of years.
The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass, and white and red morningglories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phœbe-bird,
And the March-born lambs, and the sow's pink-faint litter, and the mare's foal, and the cow's calf, and the noisy brood of the barn-yard or by the mire of the pond-side . . and the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there . . . and the beautiful curious liquid . . and the water-plants with their graceful flat heads . . all became part of him.
And the field-sprouts of April and May became part of him . . . . wintergrain sprouts, and those of the light-yellow corn, and of the esculent roots of the garden,
And the appletrees covered with blossoms, and the fruit afterward . . . . and woodberries . . and the commonest weeds by the road;
And the old drunkard staggering home from the outhouse of the tavern whence he had lately risen,
And the schoolmistress that passed on her way to the school . . and the friendly boys that passed . . and the quarrelsome boys . . and the tidy and fresh-cheeked girls . . and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country wherever he went.
His own parents . . he that had propelled the fatherstuff at night, and fathered him . . and she that conceived him in her womb and birthed him . . . . they gave this child more of themselves than that,
They gave him afterward every day . . . . they and of them became part of him.
The mother at home quietly placing the dishes on the suppertable,
The mother with mild words . . . . clean her cap and gown . . . . a wholesome odor falling off her person and clothes as she walks by:
The father, strong, self-sufficient, manly, mean, angered, unjust,
The blow, the quick loud word, the tight bargain, the crafty lure,
The family usages, the language, the company, the furniture . . . . the yearning and swelling heart,
Affection that will not be gainsayed . . . . The sense of what is real . . . . the thought if after all it should prove unreal,
The doubts of daytime and the doubts of nighttime . . . . the curious whether and how,
Whether that which appears so is so . . . . Or is it all flashes and specks?
Men and women crowding fast in the streets . . if they are not flashes and specks what are they?
The streets themselves, and the façades of houses. . . . the goods in the windows,
Vehicles . . teams . . the tiered wharves, and the huge crossing at the ferries;
The village on the highland seen from afar at sunset . . . . the river between,
Shadows . . aureola and mist . . light falling on roofs and gables of white or brown, three miles off,
The schooner near by sleepily dropping down the tide . . the little boat slacktowed astern,
The hurrying tumbling waves and quickbroken crests and slapping;
The strata of colored clouds . . . . the long bar of maroontint away solitary by itself . . . . the spread of purity it lies motionless in,
The horizon's edge, the flying seacrow, the fragrance of saltmarsh and shoremud;
These became part of that child who went forth every day, and who now goes and will always go forth every day,
And these become of him or her that peruses them now.