少况 译
我试过每一样东西，只有一些是不朽的，自由的。
在别处，我们坐在一个地方，那里阳光
过滤下来，一次一小点，
等待某个人到来。刺耳的话说出，
随着阳光染黄那棵枫树的绿叶……
所以这就是一切，但隐约地
我感到书页间新的呼吸的颤动，
整个冬天它们闻上去像本旧目录。
新的句子在启动。但夏天
一直不错，尚未过中点，
但饱满，幽暗，带着那个饱满的承诺，
那个时候，一个人不可能再溜达着走开，
即使最心不在焉的也安静下来
观看那件准备好发生的事情。
看一眼玻璃让你驻步，
然后惊恐地继续向前：我是那被察觉的吗？
这一次他们是否注意到我，就是现在的样子，
或者又被推迟了？孩子们
还在玩他们的游戏，云在下午的空中
迅速不耐烦地升起，然后消散，
随着清澈的浓厚的暮色到来。
只有在那里喇叭的
嘟嘟声中，有一片刻，我想到
正式的了不起的事务在开始，精心编排过，
它的色彩凝缩在一瞥中，一支民谣
收留了整个世界，现在，但轻轻地，
依旧轻轻地，但不容置疑，机智老练。
到处都是那些灰色的薄片？
它们是太阳的微粒。你在阳光下已经睡得
比狮身人面像还久，并没有变得更聪明。
进来吧。我以为是一个影子从门上掉下
但只是她又一次来问
我是否进去，并说不要急，万一我不进去。
闪亮的夜接手。熙笃会修士般苍白的月亮
已经爬到了天心，安顿下来，
最终卷入了黑暗的营生。
然后世界上所有的小东西都发出了一声叹息，
书籍、报纸、存放在某个地方白纸盒里的
旧袜带和连衫裤纽扣，所有城市的
较低版本压扁在让一切均衡的夜晚底下。
夏天要求并拿走得太多，
但是夜，这克制的，这缄默的，给予大于索取。
As One Put Drunk into the Packet-Boat I tried each thing, only some were immortal and free.
Elsewhere we are as sitting in a place where sunlight
Filters down, a little at a time,
Waiting for someone to come. Harsh words are spoken,
As the sun yellows the green of the maple tree. . . .
So this was all, but obscurely
I felt the stirrings of new breath in the pages
Which all winter long had smelled like an old catalogue.
New sentences were starting up. But the summer
Was well along, not yet past the mid- point
But full and dark with the promise of that fullness,
That time when one can no longer wander away
And even the least attentive fall silent
To watch the thing that is prepared to happen.
A look of glass stops you
And you walk on shaken: was I the perceived?
Did they notice me, this time, as I am,
Or is it postponed again? The children
Still at their games, clouds that arise with a swift
Impatience in the afternoon sky, then dissipate
As limpid, dense twilight comes.
Only in that tooting of a horn
Down there, for a moment, I thought
The great, formal affair was beginning, orchestrated,
Its colors concentrated in a glance, a ballade
That takes in the whole world, now, but lightly,
Still lightly, but with wide authority and tact.
The prevalence of those gray flakes falling?
They are sun motes. You have slept in the sun
Longer than the sphinx, and are none the wiser for it.
Come in. And I thought a shadow fell across the door
But it was only her come to ask once more
If I was coming in, and not to hurry in case I wasn't.
The night sheen takes over. A moon of cistercian pallor
Has climbed to the center of heaven, installed,
Finally involved with the business of darkness.
And a sigh heaves from all the small things on earth,
The books, the papers, the old garters and union- suit buttons
Kept in a white cardboard box somewhere, and all the lower
Versions of cities flattened under the equalizing night.
The summer demands and takes away too much,
But night, the reserved, the reticent, gives more than it takes.
