Through winter-time we call on spring, 

And through the spring on summer call, 

And when abounding hedges ring 

Declare that winter’s best of all; 

And after that there’s nothing good 

Because the spring-time has not come-- 

Nor know that what disturbs our blood 

Is but its longing for the tomb. 

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威廉·巴特勒·叶芝

冬天里我们呼唤和煦的春光，

春天里我们期待夏天的骄阳，

当繁茂的绿篱秋风瑟瑟，

又说冬天最该赞赏；

可冬天来了又一无是处，

因为春天还未重新登场－－

难以明白困扰生命的活力，

无非是对坟墓的渴望。