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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/8f18acffecf783b1893847d3fa33a6d3.mp3
点击复制From far I hear a tapping rhyme
A craftsman marking edge of time;
The maple trunk receives the beat
And drums of life in measured heat
The bird repeats its silver tone
Proclaiming lands again its own;
It carves the hush it wakes the hill
Declares the forest breathing still
I stand below the bark is scarred
But every wound a door unbarred;
Through hollow rooms the light will pass
Through broken things new strength amass
By noon the tapping shifts to praise
The rhythm turns to warming blaze;
The tree replies with patient sound—
That healing knocks from all around