It comes without a whisper, quiet as thistledown, brushing the corner of a hillside garden. 它悄无声息地来临,静如蓟花冠毛,掠过山坡上果园的一角。
It tiptoes through the treetops, rouging a few leaves, then rides a tuft of thistledown across the valley and away. 它踮着脚尖走过树梢,为些许叶片涂上红色的胭脂,然后乘着一簇蒲公英的种子掠过山谷,渐渐飘远。
It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels. 它嘲笑你们健全的意识,把它们像脆弱的器皿般置于蓟绒下。