When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look,

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled,

And paced upon the mountains overhead,

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

当你年老鬓白，昏沉欲睡，

坐在炉边打盹，取下这本诗集，

缓缓读起，梦忆你过去可人的双眼，

那脉脉秋水，她们曾经是多么的深情和曼美；

多少人曾爱过和你美好时光的愉悦，

多少人又曾或真或假倾慕你的容颜，

但唯有一个人爱你圣洁高雅的心灵，

爱你那铅华洗尽，年老色衰的憔悴；

你在炽红壁炉前低头沉吟，

喃喃细语，默念曾经消逝的爱情，

而它们却早已步入连绵峰谷山峦，

如同爱你的他，将脸庞藏于那漫天繁星。

Time passes slowly up here in the mountains,We sit beside bridges and walk beside fountains,Catch the wild fishes that float through the stream,Time passes slowly when you're lost in a dream.Once I had a sweetheart, she was fine and good-lookin',We sat in her kitchen while her mama was cookin',Stared out the window to the stars high above,Time passes slowly when you're searchin' for love.Ain't no reason to go in a wagon to town,Ain't no reason to go to the fair.Ain't no reason to go up, ain't no reason to go down,Ain't no reason to go anywhere.Time passes slowly up here in the daylight,We stare straight ahead and try so hard to stay right,Like the red rose of summer that blooms in the day,Time passes slowly and fades away.山中的时光静寂缓慢，我们坐在桥畔，在泉水边散步，追寻野生的鱼群，在溪水上漂浮，当你置身尘外，时光静寂流逝。我曾有个心上人，她娇小、美丽，我们坐在她家的厨房里，她妈妈做着糕点，窗外的星辰闪烁高悬，时光静寂流逝，当你找到你的心爱。不是没有理由搭一辆货车去小镇，不是没有理由再去那集市。也不是没有理由再来来回回，不是没有理由去每个地方。白日的时光静寂缓慢，我们注视着前方，努力不使之偏向，就像夏日的红玫瑰逐日盛开，时光静寂流逝，永不复返。

The Rose

Some say, "Love. It is a river
That drowns the tender reed."
Some say, "Love. It is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed."
Some say, "Love. It is a hunger,
An endless aching need."
I say, "Love. It is a flower,
And you its only seed."

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin'
That never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long.
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose.

Hi! This is me reading The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton. If you want to watch the video I made, http://v.qq.com/boke/page/h/0/d/h01280ifxfd.html Enjoy:)

THE LITTLE HOUSE by Virginia Lee Burton read by Rich

to Dorgie

Once upon a time there was a Little House way out in the country.

She was a pretty Little House and she was strong and well built.

The Little House was very happy as she sat on the hill and watched the countryside around her. She watched the sun rise in the morning and she watched the sun set in the evening.

In the nights she watched the moon grow from a thin new moon to a full moon, then back again to a thin old moon; and when there was no moon she watched the stars.

Way off in the distance she could see the lights of the city.

The Little House watched the countryside slowly change with the seasons. In the Spring, she waited for the first robin.

She watched the grass turn green. She watched the buds on the trees swell and the apple trees burst into blossom. She watched the children playing in the brook.

In the long Summer days she sat in the sun and watched the trees cover themselves with leaves and the white daisies cover the hill. She watched the apples turn red and ripen. She watched the children swimming in the pool.

In the Fall, she watched the first frost turn the leaves to bright yellow and orange and red.

She watched the harvest gathered and the apples picked.

She watched the children going back to school.

In the Winter, she watched the children coasting and skating. Year followed year…. The apple trees grew old and new ones were planted. Now at night the lights of the city seemed brighter and closer.

One day the Little House was surprised to see a horseless carriage coming down the winding country road…. Pretty soon there were more of them on the road and fewer carriages pulled by horses.

Pretty soon along came a steam shovel and it dug a road through the hill covered with daisies…. Then some trucks with tar and sand, and finally a steam roller came and rolled it all smooth, and the road was done.

Now the Little House watched the trucks and automobiles going back and forth to the city. Gasoline stations … roadside stands … and small houses followed the new road. Everyone and everything moved much faster now than before.

More roads were made, and more houses and bigger houses … apartment houses and tenement houses … schools … stores … and garages crowded around the Little House.

No one wanted to live in her and take care of her any more.