All in June by William Henry Davies

A week ago I had a fire
To warm my feet, my hands and face;
Cold winds, that never make a friend,
Crept in and out of every place.

Today the fields are rich in grass,
And buttercups in thousands grow;
I’ll show the world where I have been–
With gold-dust seen on either shoe.

Till to my garden back I come,
Where bumble-bees for hours and hours
Sit on their soft, fat, velvet bums,
To wriggle out of hollow flowers.

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Facing the sea with spring blossoms by Hai Zi

From tomorrow on,
I will be a happy man;
Grooming, chopping,
and traveling all over the world.
From tomorrow on,
I will care foodstuff and vegetable,
Living in a house towards the sea,
with spring blossoms.
From tomorrow on,
write to each of my dear ones,
Telling them of my happiness,
What the lightening of happiness has told me,
I will spread it to each of them.
Give a warm name for every river and every mountain, Strangers, I will also wish you happy.
May you have a brilliant future!
May you lovers eventually become spouse!
May you enjoy happiness in this earthly world!
I only wish to face the sea, with spring flowers blossoming

I think this is the Chinese translation…forgive me if I am wrong:

面 朝 大 海 , 春 暖 花 开
海 子

从 明 天 起 , 做 一 个 幸 福 的 人
喂 马 , 劈 柴 , 周 游 世 界
从 明 天 起 , 关 心 粮 食 和 蔬 菜
我 有 一 所 房 子 , 面 朝 大 海 , 春 暖 花 开
从 明 天 起 , 和 每 一 个 亲 人 通 信
告 诉 他 们 我 的 幸 福
那 幸 福 的 闪 电 告 诉 我 的
我 将 告 诉 每 一 个 人
给 每 一 条 河 每 一 座 山 取 一 个 温 暖 的 名 字
陌 生 人 , 我 也 为 你 祝 福
愿 你 有 一 个 灿 烂 的 前 程
愿 你 有 情 人 终 成 眷 属
愿 你 在 尘 世 获 得 幸 福
我 只 愿 面 朝 大 海 , 春 暖 花 开

 

Flowers I Would Bring by Aubrey Thomas de Vere

Flowers I would bring if flowers could make thee fairer,
And music if the Muse were dear to thee,
(For loving these would make thee love the bearer);
But sweetest songs forget their melody.

And loveliest flowers would but conceal the wearer:
A rose I marked, and might have plucked; but she
Blushed as she bent, imploring me to spare her,
Nor spoil her beauty by such rivalry.

Alas! and with what gifts shall I pursue thee,
What offerings bring, what treasures lay before thee,
When earth with all her floral train doth woo thee,
And all old poets and old songs adore thee,
And love to thee is naught; from passionate mood
Secured by joy’s complacent plenitude.