Late December: my father and I

十二月底：我和爸爸

are going to New York, to the circus.

去纽约，去马戏团。

He holds me

他驮着我

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

在他肩上，在寒风里：

scraps of white paper

白色的碎纸片

blow over the railroad ties.

在铁路枕木上飞舞。

My father liked

to stand like this, to hold me

爸爸喜欢

so he couldn't see me.

这样站着，驮着我

I remember

所以他看不见我。

staring straight ahead

我还记得

into the world my father saw;

直直地盯着前面

I was learning

盯着爸爸看到的世界；

to absorb its emptiness,

我在学习

the heavy snow

吸收世界的空虚，

not falling, whirling around us.

大片的雪花

绕着我们飞旋，并不落下。