In the days of knightly castles，when the strongest fist held the scales of justice，when only might was right，and a peasant and a dog were of equal importance，where did the Bird of Song find shelter and protection？Neither violence nor stupidity(stupidity n.愚蠢，糊涂事)gave him a thought.
在骑士的时代里，拳头掌握着公正的尺度，武力就是正义，农民和狗处于同等重要的地位——在这个时代里，这只歌鸟到什么地方去找避难所呢？暴力和愚蠢一点也不考虑它的这个问题。
But in the gabled window of the knightly castle，the lady of the castle sat with the parchment(parchment n.羊皮纸，毕业文凭)roll before her，and wrote down the old recollections in song and legend，while near her stood the old woman from the wood，and the travelling peddler(peddler n.小贩，传播者)who went wandering through the country.As these told their tales，there fluttered around them，with twittering and song，the Bird of Popular Song，who never dies so long as the earth has a hill upon which his foot may rest.
但是骑士堡寨里的女主人坐在堡寨的窗前，把她旧时的回忆，在她面前的羊皮纸上写成故事和歌。在一个茅屋里，有一个旅行的小贩坐在一个农家妇人身边的凳子上讲故事。正在这时候，这只歌鸟就在他们头上飞翔，喃喃地叫着，唱着。只要大地上还有一块它可以立足的山丘，这只“民歌的鸟儿”就永远不会死亡。
And now he looks in upon us and sings.Without are the night and the snowstorm.He lays the Runes beneath our tongues，and we know the land of our home.Heaven speaks to us in our native tongue，in the voice of the Bird of Popular Song.The old remembrances awake，the faded colors glow with a fresh lustre(lustre n.光彩，光泽vi.有光泽，发亮vt.使有光泽)，and story and song pour us a blessed draught which lifts up our minds and our thoughts，so that the evening becomes as a Christmas festival.
它现在对我们坐在屋子里的人唱。外面是暴风雪和黑夜。它把龙尼文的诗句放在我们的舌头底下，于是我们就认识了我们祖先的国土。上帝通过“民歌的鸟儿”的歌调，对我们讲着我们母亲的语言。古时的记忆复活了，黯淡的颜色发出新的光彩。传说和民歌像幸福的美酒，把我们的灵魂和思想陶醉了，使这一晚变成了圣诞节。
The snowflakes chase each other，the ice cracks，the storm rules without，for he has the might，he is lord—but not the LORD OF ALL.
雪花在飞舞，冰块在碎裂，风暴肆无忌惮。风暴有巨大的威力，它主宰着一切——但它不是我们的上帝。
It is winter time.The wind is sharp as a twoedged sword，the snowflakes chase each other.It seems as though it had been snowing for days and weeks，and the snow lies like a great mountain over the whole town，like a heavy dream of the winter night.Everything on the earth is hidden away，only the golden cross of the church，the symbol of faith，arises over the snow grave，and gleams in the blue air and in the bright sunshine.
这正是冬天。寒风似一把双刃剑。雪花在乱飞——在我们看起来，似乎飞了好几天和好几个星期。它像一座巨大的雪山压在整个城市上，它像一个冬夜里的沉重的梦。地上的一切东西都被掩盖住了，只有教堂的金十字架——信心的象征——高高地立在这个雪冢上，在蓝色的空中，在光明的太阳光里，射出光辉。
And over the buried town fly the birds of heaven，the small and the great.They twitter and they sing as best they may，each bird with his beak.
在这个被埋葬了的城市的上空，飞翔着大大小小的太空的鸟。每只鸟儿放开歌喉，尽情地歌唱，尽情地歌唱。
First comes the band of sparrows.They pipe at every trifle in the streets and lanes(lane n.（乡间)小路，巷，里弄，狭窄的通道，航线)，in the nests and the houses.They have stories to tell about the front buildings and the back buildings.
最先飞来的是一群麻雀：它们把大街小巷里、巢里和房子里的一切小事情全部讲了出来。它们知道前屋里的事情，也知道后屋里的事情。
“We know the buried town，”they say，“Everything living in it is piep！piep！piep！”
“我们知道这个被埋葬了的城市，”它们说。“所有住在里面的人都在吱！吱！吱！”
The black ravens and crows flew on over the white snow.
黑色的大渡鸦和乌鸦掠过白雪。
“Grub，grub！”they cried，“Theres something to be got down there.Something to swallow，and thats most important.Thats the opinion of most of them down there，and the opinion is googoogood！”
“呱！呱！”它们叫着。“雪底下还有一些东西，一些可以吃的东西——这是最重要的事情。这是下面大多数的意见。而这意见是对——对——对的！”
The wild swans come flying on whirring pinions，and sing of the noble and the great，that will still sprout(sprout v.萌芽n.苗芽)in the hearts of men，down in the town which is resting beneath its snowy veil.
野天鹅飕飕地拍着翅膀飞来。它们歌唱着伟大和高贵的感情。这种感情将要从人的思想和灵魂中产生出来——这些人现在住在被雪埋着的城里。
No death is there—life reigns yonder.We hear it on the notes that swell onward like the tones of the church organ，which seize us like sounds from the elfhill，like the songs of Ossian，like the rushing swoop of the wandering spirits’wings.What harmony！That harmony speaks to our hearts，and lifts up our souls！It is the Bird of Popular Song whom we hear.
那里面并没有死亡，那里面仍然有生命存在。这一点我们可以从歌调中听出来。歌调像是从教堂的风琴中发出来的；它像妖山上的闹声，像奥仙的歌声，瓦尔古里的飕飕的拍翅声，吸引住我们的注意力。多么和谐的声音啊！这种和声透进我们的心的深处，使我们的思想变得高超——这就是我们听到的“民歌的鸟儿”的歌声！
And at this moment the warm breath of heaven blows down from the sky.There are gaps in the snowy mountains，the sun shines into the clefts.Spring is coming，the birds are returning，and new races are coming with the same home sounds in their hearts.
正在这时候，天空温暖的气息从上面吹下来。雪山裂开了，太阳光从裂缝里射进去。春天来到了；鸟儿回来了；新的一代，心里带着同样的故乡的声音，也回来了。
Hear the story of the year：“The night of the snowstorm，the heavy dream of the winter night，all shall be dissolved，all shall rise again in the beauteous notes of the Bird of Popular Song，who never dies！”
请听这一年的故事吧：狂暴的风雪，冬夜的噩梦！一切将会消逝，一切将会从不灭的“民歌的鸟儿”的悦耳的歌声中获得新的生命。