st moment of your meeting me.

If bright or dim the season， it might be summer or winter for aught I can say.

So unrecorded did it slip away，So blind was I to see and foresee，So dull to mark the budding of my treeThat would not blossom yet for many a May.

If only I could recollect it， such a day of days！

I let it come and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;It seemed to mean so little， meant so much;If only now I could recall that touch，First touch of hand in hand.

那是克里斯蒂娜。罗塞蒂的。

几乎沉醉在美好的氛围和他优美低沉的声线之中。

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