September is more than a month, really; it is a season, an achievement in itself. It begins with August’s leftovers and it ends with October’s preparations, but along the way it achieves special satisfactions. After summer’s heat and haste, the year consolidates itself. Deliberate September—in its own time and tempo—begins to sum up another summer.
九月绝不仅仅是一个月份，它是一个季节，一个收获的季节。九月初始于八月的余音，终结于十月的繁忙。一路走来，它怡然自得，收获满满。经过了夏季的炎热和躁动，一年开始沉静下来，为来年的繁荣做准备。九月，踏着自己的节拍，从容地宣告又一个夏季的结束。
With September comes a sense of autumn. It creeps in on a misty dawn and vanishes in the hot afternoon. It tiptoes through the treetops, rouging a few leaves, then rides a tuft of thistledown across the valley and away. It sits on a hilltop and hoots like an October owl in the dusk. It plays tag with the wind. September is a changeling busy as a squirrel in a hickory tree, idle as a languid brook. It is summer’s ripeness and richness fulfilled.
九月给我们带来了丝丝的秋意。它在薄雾朦胧的清晨无声无息地潜入，又在阳光和煦的午后悄然消失了踪影。它踮起脚尖，轻手轻脚地掠过树顶，顺手抹红了几片叶子，又踏着一丛蓟花冠毛，越过峡谷后飘然而去。它时而坐在山巅，啾啾犹如十月黄昏中啼叫的猫头鹰，时而又和风儿追逐玩耍。九月又是变化无常的。它一会儿繁忙如同山核桃树上的小松鼠，一会儿又慵懒有如缓缓流淌的小溪。夏季的成熟与丰饶成就了甜美的九月。
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