218. Spring Morning | Meng Haoran

前两句有鸟鸣，后两句有风雨，诗人几乎没有直接描画春景。读者先跟着他醒来，再由眼前听见的鸟声想到昨夜的风雨，最后想到尚未看见的落花。四句的时间从清晨退回夜里，又回到此刻；场景很小，春天的变化却都在其中。

Birdsong fills the first couplet and wind and rain the second; the poet hardly describes spring scenery directly. We wake with him, move from the birds heard now to the storm heard last night, and finally imagine flowers not yet seen. The four lines step back from morning into night and return to the present. The setting is small, but it contains spring's change.

末句不是等人回答，也不需要把落花写成严重损失。风雨过去，花自然有落；诗人刚醒，心里闪过一问。正因为语气轻，这点惋惜才接近日常经验。若把它说成宏大的伤春，反而会盖过原诗的清新。

The final question expects no answer, nor does it turn fallen flowers into a catastrophe. A storm has passed, flowers naturally fall, and the newly awakened poet briefly wonders about them. Its lightness makes the regret recognizable. Reading it as a grand lament for spring would overwhelm the poem's freshness.