作者在本文中选择了英国女诗人兼散文作家Alice Meynell一段描写夏日的文字。Alice Meynell描写夏日的文字优美超脱，有物我合一的尘外之韵。尤其是对色彩的观察和感受，令人难出其右。想象那郁郁葱葱的树木，或秀逸或森然，满眼是浓浓淡淡深深浅浅的绿，再添上如绝句般生命之歌的蝉声，夏之韵，则体现得淋漓尽致了。而其中她对季节更替，人生从激情绚烂转至平淡宁静、回归本色的体味，更让人回味悠长。读者朋友，你能从中体验到同样的诗情画意吗？

究竟什么是亘古不变的呢？星光，海潮？还是暖暖的风，淡淡的云？四季更迭的自然之美，可以穿透湮远的年代。

我独爱夏季。“红了樱桃，绿了芭蕉”，乍暖还寒忽晴忽雨的春天，“秋色老梧桐”却又瓜果飘香凝重深厚的金秋，或是“干里冰封，万里雪飘”透着凌寒腊梅暗香的银冬，都有其独特的韵味。不过，我珍爱夏，为它痴迷，不仅仅是喜欢那份晚风轻拂发梢的清凉，喜欢那挺拔乔木的蓊蓊郁郁，田田荷叶的润泽青翠；不仅仅是喜欢池塘边争先恐后的蛙鸣，喜欢满天飘忽而晶亮的点点繁星；也不仅仅是喜欢光脚在阵雨后的草地里趟水的惬意，喜欢自己长裙飘飘时随裙裾飘飞的悠逸心情。爱，有时是不需要找理由的，可能只是一种心底的感觉，一种相互的缘分。

女诗人Alice Meynell描写夏的文字可谓别具诗韵：

One has the leisure of July for perceiving all the differences of the green of leaves. It is no longer a difference in degrees of maturity, for all the trees have darkened to their final tone, and stand in their differences of character and not of mere date. Almost all the green is grave, not sad and not dull It has a darkened and a daily colour, in majestic but not obvious harmony with dark grey skies, and might look, to inconstant eyes, as prosaic after spring as eleven o'clock looks after the dawn.
七月间，人们有余暇观察树叶绿翠的千差万别。这不再是成熟上的差异，因为所有的树木，或转苍翠，或呈墨绿，色调均已固着定格，从而展现出来的，并非时节上的不同，而是各自品格上的差异。几乎各种绿色，品味凝重，既不流于悒郁，也不先之沉闷。它具有一种深沉、日常的色泽，与灰暗的苍穹浑然一体，构成庄重却非一眼可见的和谐，故而在浏览扫掠的目光看来，可能会有阳春繁景过后的平淡之感，一如黎明之后十一时的光景。

Gravity is the word — not solemnity as towards evening, nor menace as at night. The daylight trees of July are signs of common beauty, common freshness, and a mystery familiar and abiding as night and day. In childhood we all have a more exalted sense of dawn and summer sunrise than we ever fully retain or quite recover; and also a far higher sensibility for April and April evenings — a heartache for them, which in riper years is gradually and irretrievably consoled.
凝重，乃是最贴切的字眼——不是时近黄昏的阴沉，亦非黑夜之中的森然。七月白昼的葱都树木，体现出普通的美，常见的清新，是一种如同黑夜白昼般惯常而又永恒不变的不解之谜。童年时代，我们看到黎明和夏时日出的盛景，会油然生出一股日后无法充分保留、也难以完全恢复的奋激狂喜；同时，对四月和四月的日暮黄昏，还产生一种陶然忘情的欣赏共鸣——一种为之怦然心动的神驰向往，进入壮年之后，又无可挽回地逐渐淡化平息。

The poetry of mere day and of late summer becomes perceptive to mature eyes that have long ceased to be sated, have taken leave of weariness, and cannot now find anything in nature too familiar; eyes which have, indeed, lost sight of the further awe of midsummer day break, and no longer see so much of the past in April twilight as they saw when they had no past; but which look freshly at the dailiness of green summer, of early afternoon, of every sky of any form that comes to pass, and of the darkened elms.
只有阅历丰富的慧眼，才能感受到白昼本身和夏末时令固有的诗意——这双慧眼已久未获满足矣，同时也摆脱了厌倦感，此刻发现在自然界，即使最常见的景物也另有一番情趣；诚然，面对仲夏红日的喷薄欲出，已不再萌发敬畏之情；凝望四月的苍茫暮色，也不会比一无阅历的童年，引发更多的联想；然而，对司空见惯的日常景象——树木葱茏的盛夏，日过中天的午后，来而复去、变幻不定的每一片云天，还有幽暗的榆树——反倒会投以新的目光。

人生就是如此。也许曾叱咤风云，或曾搏击雪雨；而当岁月流转，时光渐逝，心情终如叶落归根——在所有曾经的轰轰烈烈背后，深藏于内心的渴望，还是平静和安宁。

备注：齐文昱先生的翻译一段：

英国女诗人Alice Meynell曾用异常纤巧雅致的笔触描摹：

It is no longer a difference in degrees of maturity, for all the trees have darkened to their final tone, and stand in their differences of character and not of mere date. Almost all the green is grave, not sad and not dull.

                                                                            （Alice Meynell, July）

树色与年轮无关。

 所有的林木，此时都将她们本来的颜色演绎到极限。

 放眼望去，参差班驳，深浅不一的绿。

 其实，那不是树木的长幼之别，而是各自的性情使然。

 所有的苍郁，端庄而凝重，但那绝不是她们沉闷的心绪，或是悲戚的容颜。”