鹽柱
那時(shí)候一切都好嗎？
是的察署，一切都好闷游。
你知道它們都好是嗎？
那個(gè)時(shí)候贴汪？你那時(shí)候脐往？
不，因?yàn)槲覒n(yōu)慮
或者可能是饑餓
或者睡著了扳埂，有一半時(shí)間如此业簿。
偶爾會(huì)有一顆梨或者李子
或者一個(gè)裝有東西的杯子，
或者是白色的簾布阳懂，晃動(dòng)著梅尤，
不然就是一只手柜思。
而在那古舊的帳篷里，
燈光柔和地
照著美麗巷燥，成熟酝蜒，
交纏一起的珍愛(ài)的身體，
然后突然驟亮矾湃，然后熄滅亡脑。
海市蜃樓，你認(rèn)定：
一切都不曾存在邀跃。
但是看你的背后霉咨，在那里
你的時(shí)代像鋪展在
太陽(yáng)底下的野餐，
即使是夜晚拍屑，也依然閃光途戒。
不要回頭看，他們說(shuō)：
你會(huì)變成鹽柱僵驰。
但是喷斋，為何不呢？為何不看蒜茴？
它豈不是閃閃發(fā)光嗎星爪？
那里，豈不是很美嗎粉私？
Phil譯
2020.12.14
SALT
Were things good then?
Yes. They were good.
Did you know they were good?
At the time? Your time?
No, because I was worrying
or maybe hungry
or asleep, half of those hours.
Once in a while there was a pear or plum
or a cup with something in it,
or a white curtain, rippling,
or else a hand.
Also the mellow lamplight
in that antique tent,
falling on beauty, fullness,
bodies entwined and cherishing,
then flareup, and then gone.
Mirages, you decide:
everything was never.
Though over your shoulder there it is,
your time laid out like a picnic
in the sun, still glowing,
although it’s night.
Don’t look behind, they say:
You’ll turn to salt.
Why not, though? Why not look?
Isn’t it glittery?
Isn’t it pretty, back there?
