在家里，穿着法兰绒长袍，像一只熊在浮冰上，

At home, in my flannel gown, like a bear to its floe,

我爬上床；顺着地球那不可能的边缘

I clambered to bed; up the globe's impossible sides

我整晚航行——直到最终，带着我的黑胡须，

I sailed all night—till at last, with my black beard,

我的皮衣和我的狗，站在北极。

My furs and my dogs, I stood at the northern pole.

在童年的夜里，我的伙伴们僵冷地躺着

There in the childish night my companions lay frozen,

硬硬的皮毛刺着我饥饿的喉咙，

The stiff furs knocked at my starveling throat,

我发出深深的叹息：雪花蜷缩着走来

And I gave my great sigh: the flakes came huddling,

这果真是我的结局么？黑暗中我求助于睡眠。

Were they really my end? In the darkness I turned to my rest.

——那儿，旗杆劈啪地折断于阳光和未碎裂的

—Here, the flag snaps in the glare and silence

冰的寂静中。我站在这儿，

Of the unbroken ice. I stand here,

狗在哀嚎，我的胡须漆黑，我瞪视着

The dogs bark, my beard is black, and I stare

北极…

At the North Pole . . .

而此刻又如何？那么，回去吧。

                                        And now what? Why, go back.

如我高兴的那样转身，我的脚步朝南。

Turn as I please, my step is to the south.

这世界——我的世界旋转于

The world—my world spins on this final point

寒冷而可怜的终点上：所有的道路，所有的风

Of cold and wretchedness: all lines, all winds

都在我最终发现的漩涡中终结。

End in this whirlpool I at last discover.

而那是无意义的。在整夜的航行之后

And it is meaningless. In the child's bed

在孩子的床上，在那个温暖的世界

After the night's voyage, in that warm world

人们工作，并经受为疼痛

Where people work and suffer for the end

加冕的末日——在那云和布谷鸟之乡

That crowns the pain—in that Cloud-Cuckoo-Land

我到达我的北极，它满含意义。

I reached my North and it had meaning.

这儿在我存在的真实的北极，

Here at the actual pole of my existence,

我做过的一切是无意义的，

Where all that I have done is meaningless,

我或死、或生，但凭运气——

Where I die or live by accident alone—

那儿，活着或者死去，我都是孤零零的；

Where, living or dying, I am still alone;

这里，在北极，夜晚，死亡的冰山

Here where North, the night, the berg of death

把我挤出无知的黑暗，

Crowd me out of the ignorant darkness,

我最终看见我从黑暗中

I see at last that all the knowledge

夺取的全部的知识——黑暗抛给我的——

I wrung from the darkness—that the darkness flung me—

像无知一样毫无用处：无来自于无，

Is worthless as ignorance: nothing comes from nothing,

黑暗来自于黑暗。疼痛来自于黑暗

The darkness from the darkness. Pain comes from the darkness

我们称它为智慧。而它是痛苦。

And we call it wisdom. It is pain.