求德国诗人乌兰德的诗歌《艾伯哈德伯爵的山楂树》

Count Eberhard's Hawthorn

Count Eberhard Rustle-Beard,

From Württemberg's fair land,

On holy errand steer'd

To Palestina's strand.

The while he slowly rode

Along a woodland way;

He cut from the hawthorn bush

A little fresh green spray.

Then in his iron helm

The little sprig he plac'd;

And bore it in the wars,

And over the ocean waste.

And when he reach'd his home;

He plac'd it in the earth;

Where little leaves and buds

The gentle Spring call'd forth.

He went each year to it,

The Count so brave and true;

And overjoy'd was he

To witness how it grew.

The Count was worn with age

The sprig became a tree;

'Neath which the old man oft

Would sit in reverie.

The branching arch so high,

Whose whisper is so bland,

Reminds him of the past

And Palestina's strand.