AH, these jasmines, these white jasmines!

I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines.

I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;

I have heard the liquid murmur of the river through the darkness of midnight;

呵，这些茉莉花，这些白的茉莉花!

我仿佛记得我第一次双手满捧着这些茉莉花，这些白的茉莉花的时候。

我喜爱那日光，那天空，那绿色的大地;

我听见那河水淙淙的流声，在黑漆的午夜里传过来;

Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept her lover.

Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines that I held in my hand when I was a child.

Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with merrymakers on festival nights.

On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song.

I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of bakulas woven by the hand of love.

Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child.

秋天的夕阳，在荒原上大路转角处迎我，如新妇揭起她的面纱迎接她的爱人。

但我想起孩提时第一次捧在手里的白茉莉，心里充满着甜蜜的回忆。

我生平有过许多快活的日子，在节日宴会的晚上，我曾跟着说笑话的人大笑。

在灰暗的雨天的早晨，我吟哦过许多飘逸的诗篇。

我颈上戴过爱人手织的醉花的花圈，作为晚装。

但我想起孩提时第一次捧在手里的白茉莉，心里充满着甜蜜的回忆。