家是那样悲伤。它仍是被遗弃时的模样，

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,

保留着最后离开的人喜欢过的陈设，

Shaped to the comfort of the last to go

像是还在争取他们回头。其实，再没有

As if to win them back. Instead, bereft

谁可以取悦，它萎靡憔悴，

Of anyone to please, it withers so,

没有勇气放下这失去，

Having no heart to put aside the theft

去回想当初的自己，

And turn again to what it started as,

作为一次欢乐的尝试，希望一切依轨而行，

A joyous shot at how things ought to be,

却早已偏航。你还能看到它那时的样子：

Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:

瞧瞧这些画儿，餐具。

Look at the pictures and the cutlery.

琴凳里的乐谱。那只花瓶。

The music in the piano stool. That vase.