曾经，这是一首情诗，

This was once a love poem,

在它腰臀变粗、呼吸短促之前，

before its haunches thickened, its breath grew short,

在它发现自己

before it found itself sitting,

困惑又有些尴尬地

perplexed and a little embarrassed,

坐在停下的汽车挡泥板上之前，

on the fender of a parked car,

而有很多人头也不回地走过。

while many people passed by without turning their heads.

它记得自己装扮一新，像要参加盛大的订婚礼。

It remembers itself dressing as if for agreat engagement.

它记得挑来捡去，

It remembers choosing these shoes,

鞋子，围巾或领带。

this scarf or tie.

有一次，它以啤酒当早餐，

Once, it drank beer for breakfast,

把脚放在河里，

drifted its feet

与另一双脚并排漂浮着。

in a river side by side with the feet of another.

有一次它假装害羞，然后就真的害羞了，

Once it pretended shyness, then grew trulyshy,

头低了下来，头发从面前落下，

dropping its head so the hair would fall forward,

于是别人就看不到它的眼睛。

so the eyes would not be seen.

它绕有激情地讲起历史、艺术。

It spoke with passion of history, of art.

那时，这首诗甚是可爱。

It was lovely then, this poem.

它下巴下的皮肤，没有松塌塌的皱褶。

Under its chin, no fold of skin softened.

膝盖后面，没有发黄的脂肪垫。

Behind the knees, no pad of yellow fat.

朝闻道，夕犹信也。

What it knew in the morning it still believed at nightfall.

坚实的自信扬起它的眉毛、脸颊。

An unconjured confidence lifted its eyebrows, its cheeks.

渴望并没有减缓。

The longing has not diminished.

但它仍然理解。该考虑养一只猫，

Still it understands. It is time to consider a cat,

或者培育非洲紫罗兰或开花的仙人掌。

the cultivation of African violets or flowering cactus.

于是，它做出决定：

Yes, it decides:

在红蓝彩绘的花盆中多多栽培微型仙人掌。

Many miniature cacti, in blue and red painted pots.

当它意识到新生命纯粹而陌生的沉默

When it finds itself disquieted

令它心神不宁，

by the pure and unfamiliar silence of its new life,

它便会伸出一根小火焰似的手指

it will touch them—one, then another—

抚摸它们，一棵一棵摸遍。

with a single finger outstretched like a tiny flame.