Hawks, rivers, cities, ochre, us.

鹰，河流，城市，赭石，我们。

A species whose right hand sketches its left hand

一个能用右手描绘左手的物种

but can’t draw itself.

却画不出自己。

Whales.

鲸。

Geosynchronous satellites.

同步卫星。

A truck hauling folded tarps under a tarp.

卡车拉着苫布下折叠的苫布。

Wars, hunger, jail cells, praises, pratfalls, puns,

战争、饥饿、牢房、赞美、失误、双关语，

gold circuits on phone-card connectors—

电话卡上金色的电路 ——

all cargo, manifest,

舱单，所有货物，

circling the sun together

一起围绕太阳旋转

each three hundred and sixty-five days

算上几个小时的零头儿

plus a few remnant hours.

三百六十五天一圈。

A story here ribboned with lightning,

一段故事这边绕着闪电，

there dimmed by clouds,

那边被云层遮掩，

on a nitrogen-, oxygen-,

打包捆着着氮、氧、

carbon-dioxide-, and dust-cushioned bundle,

灰尘和二氧化碳，

whose glaciers depart, insects quiet, seas rise.

它的冰川消融，昆虫沉寂，海平面上升。

To that which is coming, I say,

对那个将来，我说，

Here, take what is yours.

好吧，该是你的就拿走。

But forget, if you can, what-is-coming,

但，可不可以，忽略不计，

find not worth pocketing,

那不值一提的，

let fall unnoticed as weed seed,

小小的一把瞬间和动作，

one small handful of moments and gestures.

任它撒落，像杂草的种子一样。

Moments mouse-colored, minor.

那些瞬间，是鼠灰色的卑微。

Gestures disturbing no one,

那些动作，谁也不曾打扰过。

slipped between the ones that were counted,

落在重大事件的缝隙里，

the ones in which everything happened.

那些决定了一切的重大事件。

A petroglyph’s single fingerprint.

就留着岩画里的那个指纹。

A spider awake in an undusted corner.

就让那蜘蛛醒在落满灰尘的角落。

Let stay, if you can, what-is-coming,

将来，留着吧，可不可以，

one or two musical notes,

那一两个音符，

hummed in a half hour that couldn’t be herded

在空闲的半小时吟唱，在那既不能放牧

or mined,

又不能开采的，

made to save daylight or spend it.

专供我节省或者消磨的时光。

Leave one unfraudulent hope,

留给我一点不虚伪的希望，

one affection like curtains blown open in wind,

一段爱像窗帘随风飘荡，

whose minutes, seconds, fragrance,

它的分分秒秒，它的味道和

choices,

选择，

won’t sadden the heart to recall.

回想，不会让我心伤。