“Có con suối nào trong tim em bé nhỏ...” “Have you got a brook in your little heart...”

Have you got a brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink, And shadows tremble so – And nobody, knows, so still it flows, That any brook is there, And yet your little draught of life Is daily drunken there – Why, look out for the little brook in March, When the rivers overflow, And the snows come hurrying from the hills, And the bridges often go – And later, in August it may be – When the meadows parching lie, Beware, lest this little brook of life, Some burning noon go dry!