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八月是多么令人愜意的季節啊！果園和麥田到處都充溢著忙碌勞作的聲響；串串果實壓得果樹都彎下了腰，枝條低垂到地面；還有谷穗，有的一捆捆優雅地堆擠在一起，有的迎風招展，仿佛在向鐮刀求愛，它們給周圍的景致染上了一層金黃的色調；整個大地似乎籠罩在醇香柔和的氣氛中。
August by Charles Dickens
There is no month in the whole year, in which nature wears a more beautiful appearance than in the month of August. Spring has many beauties, and May is a fresh and blooming month, but the charms of this time of year are enhanced1) by their contrast with the winter season. August has no such advantage. It comes when we remember nothing but clear skies, green fields, and sweet-smelling flowers—when the recollection2) of snow, and ice, and bleak3) winds, has faded from our minds as completely as they have disappeared from the earth — and yet what a pleasant time it is! Orchards and cornfields4) ring with the hum of labours; trees bend beneath the thick clusters of rich fruit which bow their branches to the ground; and the corn5), piled in graceful sheaves, or waving in every light breath that sweeps above it, as if it wooed6) the sickle7), tinges8) the landscape with a golden hue9). A mellow softness appears to hang over the whole earth; the influence of the season seems to extend itself to the very wagon, whose slow motion across the well-reaped field, is perceptible10) only to the eye, but strikes with no harsh sound upon the ear.
