The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth.
蟋蟀的鸣声与雨点的淅沥,从黑暗中传来,像昔日青春的梦在轻轻作响。
— Rabindranath Tagore · Stray Birds, 198 (1916) —
The cricket's chirp and the patter of rain come to me through the dark, like the rustle of dreams from my past youth.
蟋蟀的鸣声与雨点的淅沥,从黑暗中传来,像昔日青春的梦在轻轻作响。