以前是这样的：

It was like this:

你很开心，然后很悲伤，

you were happy, then you were sad,

然后又很开心，接着又不。

then happy again, then not.

这样一直重复。

It went on.

你很无辜或者很愧疚。

You were innocent or you were guilty.

采取过行动，或者没有。

Actions were taken, or not.

有时候你会说出来，别的时候一言不语。

At times you spoke, at other times you were silent.

大多数时候，你似乎很沉默——能说什么呢？

Mostly, it seems you were silent—what could you say?

现在，基本上过去了。

Now it is almost over.

你的生命，就像一个情人，低头吻你的生活。

Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life.

这样做并不是原谅——

It does this not in forgiveness—

你们之间，没有什么需要原谅的——

between you, there is nothing to forgive—

而是像一位烘焙师，在某个时刻，看到

but with the simple nod of a baker at the moment

面包完美变型，完成了，简简单单地点一下头。

he sees the bread is finished with transformation.

现在，吃饭，也只是为了其他人。

Eating, too, is a thing now only for others.

他们怎么看你或你过的日子，都已经

It doesn’t matter what they will make of you

不重要了：他们会犯错的，

or your days: they will be wrong,

他们怀念的那个女人、那个男人，但都是错的，

they will miss the wrong woman, miss the wrong man,

他们讲的所有故事都将是他们自己的想象而已。

all the stories they tell will be tales of their own invention.

你的故事是这样的：你有过开心，然后你悲伤，

Your story was this: you were happy, then you were sad,

你睡着过，你醒来过。

you slept, you awakened.

有时，你吃烤栗子，有时你吃柿子。

Sometimes you ate roasted chestnuts, sometimes persimmons.