从光的平面转入另一个平面，翅膀穿越

From plane of light to plane, wings dipping through

落日筑起的几何学与兰花，

Geometries and orchids that the sunset builds,

飞出山峰阴影的黑色角度，骑着

Out of the peak’s black angularity of shadow, riding

最后一阵光线喧闹的雪崩

The last tumultuous avalanche of

在松林上，在咽喉似的山谷上，鹰来了。

Light above pines and the guttural gorge,

The hawk comes.

它的翅膀

切下又一天。它的运动

His wing

像磨快的钢刀挥动，我们听见

Scythes down another day, his motion

时间之茎无声地倒下。

Is that of the honed steel-edge, we hear

The crashless fall of stalks of Time.

每根茎上都沉着地挂着金子，那是我们的错误结成的。

The head of each stalk is heavy with the gold of our error.

看！看！它正攀上最后的光线

它既不知道时间，又不知道错误，不知道

Look! Look! he is climbing the last light

在谁的永不宽恕的眼光下，这未被宽恕的世界

Who knows neither Time nor error, and under

摆进了黑影之中。

Whose eye, unforgiving, the world, unforgiven, swings

Into shadow.

最后一个画眉

唱了很久，现在也静默了，最后一个蝙蝠

Long now,

在尖削的象形文字中回翔。它的智慧

The last thrush is still, the last bat

太古老，太宏大。星星

Now cruises in his sharp hieroglyphics. His wisdom

像柏拉图一般坚定，照在群山上。

Is ancient, too, and immense. The star

Is steady, like Plato, over the mountain.

要是没有风，我想我们能听到

地球在轴上转，格格地响，听到历史

If there were no wind we might, we think, hear

在黑暗中点点滴滴，像地窖里漏水的管子。

The earth grind on its axis, or history

Drip in darkness like a leaking pipe in the cellar.