十一月，一只梨

November. One pear

在树上摇曳过去的树叶，过去的理智。

sways on the tree past leaves, past reason.

敬老院里，我的朋友倒下了。

In the nursing home, my friend has fallen.

抓住，他说，从长满雀斑的木头上

Chased, he said, from the freckled woods

愤怒的梭罗，柯勒律治，和

by angry Thoreau, Coleridge, and Beaumarchais.

博马榭。

Delusion too, it seems, can be well read.

错觉，似乎也可以很好的进行解读

He is courteous, well-spoken even in dread.

即使在恐惧中，他也彬彬有礼，谈吐得当。

The old fineness in him hangs on

他身上原有的美丽依然

for dear life. “My mind now?

存在。“我现在的思想？

A small ship under the wake of a large.

是跟随在一艘大船之后的小船。

They force you to walk on your heels here,

他们在这里强迫你用脚跟走路，

the angles matter. Four or five degrees,

角度的问题。四或五度，

and you’re lost.” Life is dear to him yet,

之后你便迷失在此”。生命对他来说弥足珍贵，

though he believes it his own fault he grieves,

即使他坚信这是他的错他却仍感悲伤

his own fault his old friends have turned against him

这是他的错，他的老友都转过来弹劾他

like crows against an injured of their kind.

就像乌鸦对付一只受伤的同类。

There is no kindness here, no flint of mercy.

这里不存在仁慈这里，没有善良的燧石。

Descend, descend,

下降，下降，

some voice must urge, inside the pear stem.

一定有声音在催促，梨茎之内。

The argument goes on, he cannot outrun it.

争论仍在持续，他无法逃离。

Dawnlight to dawnlight, I look: it is still there.

曙光交叠，我一看：它从未离开过。