一群燕子聚集在空中，嘁嘁喳喳。
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness，
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun；
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run；
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees，
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core；
To swell the gourd， and plump the hazel shells