<아이들의 시간>세실 데이 루이스
Children look down upon the morning gray Tissue of mist that veils a valley"s lap: Their fingers itch tear it and unwrap The flags, the roundabouts, the gala day. They watch the spring rise inexhaustibly― A breathing thread out of the eddied sand, Sufficient to their day : but half their mind Is on the sailed and glittering estuary. Fondly we wish their mist might never break, Knowing it hide..