走进书室，见书案上躺着一片红红的叶子。那光亮的叶面像涂了一层红色的漆，红得可爱，亮得令人不忍释手。

Entering my study, I caught sight of a red leaf on my desk. It was so glossily red as if it was freshly painted, such a lovely shining scarlet that made one reluctant to part with.

隔窗仰望楼前那株高大的树，翠绿的枝头缀着几点暗红。哦，红叶是衰老的树叶。在它由枝头飘落时，被风从敞开的窗抛到书桌上，仍展示着它未尽的一点光彩。

I looked out of the window. There stood a tall tree whose green branches were dotted with dark red leaves. They, alas, were leaves that went decaying. It must be one of them carried by the wind through the open window to land on my desk. It still retained its luster.

窗外的树上，又有几片红叶落下来，像一片片羽毛，离开了温暖的肢体，像一串串音符回旋在震颤的琴弦——落了，落了。诗人赞美你“化作春泥更护花”；雅士将你蚀成“叶脉书签”，让让你同墨香为芳邻；恋人以红叶象征忠贞，将你寄给远方的心……

The tree shed a few more leaves. They fell like so many feathers, away from the stems that used to be their body. They flew whirling in the air as if they were music notes from the vibrating violin strings – falling and falling. In poetry, they are praised for “being turned into fertile mud to nourish flowers in spring.” Some of the nice ones are made into bookmarks often found in the company of Chinese ink and inkstand. A red leaf in the shape of heart can be sent to a faraway lover to signify one’s fidelity.



我觉得，凡是有价值的东西，在生命终止时能够说：“我靠自己的努力，在世间留下了一点痕迹。”

I think any living being, if not good for nothing, will be able to say at the end of his life that he has, on the strength of his own effort, left his trace in the world.

红叶，我在树木的年轮里读过你的诗章。

I recognize you, red leaves, as I’ve read your poetic message in the annual rings of the trunk.

我赞美你，红叶。

Let this be a hymn to you.