如果哪天你死了

If it came about you died

也许就可以说我爱你：

it might be said I loved you:

爱是一种绝对，一如死亡，

love is an absolute as death is,

两者都没有给对方提供伪证——

and neither bears false witness to the other--

但你仍然活着。

But you remain alive.

不，我不爱你

No, I do not love you

                 恨那个词，

                hate the word,

那种公众声音里的私人独裁,

that private tyranny inside a public sound,

你的自由是你的而不是我自己的：

your freedom's yours and not my own:

但请像紧握一把剑紧握我独自的疯狂，

but hold my separate madness like a sword,

并整夜把它投入你的肉体。

and plunge it in your body all night long.

如果死亡应该把我们的骨剔得一干二净，

If death shall strip our bones of all but bones,

那么这里就是那肉， 以及那喝得烂醉的肉

then here's the flesh and flesh that's drunken-sweet

——它就像欺骗性的月光下的酒杯：

as wine cups in deceptive lunar light:

伸出你的手把那月光熄灭掉，

reach up your hand and turn the moonlight off,

也许它根本就不在那里，

and maybe it was never there at all,

所以永远不要答应我任何东西：

so never promise anything to me:

但请让你的手从黑暗中伸过来，

but reach across the distance of tonight,

从夜晚的距离中伸出来

and touch the moving moment once again

再次触摸那动人的时刻

                  before you fall asleep--

                  在你沉睡之前——