新诗曹明伦 译

The New PoemCharles Wright


它不会像大海。
It will not resemble the sea.
它粗厚的手上不会有污垢。
It will not have dirt on its thick hands
它不会是天气的一部分。
It will not be part of the weather.

它不会泄露它的名字。
It will not reveal its name.
它不会有你可能期待的梦。
It will not have dreams you can count on.
它不会被轻易拍上镜头。
It will not be photogenic.

它不会照料我们的悲哀.
It will not attend our sorrow.
它不会哄慰我们的孩子。
It will not console our children.
它不会有能力帮助我们。
It will not be able to help us.


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