Out of the 胸懷 of the air,
Out of the
雲褶 of her 衣裳 shaken,
Over the
林地 brown and bare,
Over the
農田 foresaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the
.

Even as our 雲想 take
Suddenly
in some expression,
Even as the 憂思 doth make
In the
素容 confession,
The
哀穹 reveals
The
it feels.

This is the
of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the
天機 of despair,
in its cloudy 胸懷 hoarded,
Now 細語 and revealed
To
and field.

 

Original English text:

Snow-flakes
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Out of the bosom of the air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.