First Love


Special Focus - - Contents - John Clare 约翰·克莱尔

I never was struck be­fore that hour, With love so sud­den and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower, And stole my heart away com­plete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs re­fused to walk away,

And when she looked “what could I ail?” My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face, And took my eye­sight quiet away. The trees and bushes round the place, Seemed mid­night at noon­day,

I could not see a sin­gle thing, Words from my eyes did start,

They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart,

Are flow­ers the win­ter’s choice?

Is love’s bed al­ways snow?

She seemed to hear my silent voice, And love ap­peals to know,

I never saw so sweet a face,

As that I stood be­fore,

My heart has left its dwelling- place, And can re­turn no more.

(From when you are old, Tongxin press)

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