我告诉你，那不是月亮。

It is not the moon, I tell you.

是这些花

It is these flowers

照亮了院子。

lighting the yard.

我讨厌它们。

I hate them.

我讨厌它们，就像讨厌性爱，

I hate them as I hate sex,

那男人的嘴

the man’s mouth

封住我的嘴，那男人

sealing my mouth, the man’s

令人瘫痪的身体——

paralyzing body—

那一直会逃逸的叫声，

and the cry that always escapes,

交合的

the low, humiliating

低沉而羞人的前提——

premise of union—

今晚，我在心中

In my mind tonight

听到问题和刨根问底的答案

I hear the question and pursuing answer

融为一个声音，

fused in one sound

累积着累积着然后

that mounts and mounts and then

分裂成陈旧的自我，

is split into the old selves,

倦怠的敌对。你看得到吗？

the tired antagonisms. Do you see?

我们已成了傻瓜。

We were made fools of.

而模拟橙的香味

And the scent of mock orange

从窗户飘出。

drifts through the window.

我怎能休息？

How can I rest?

这世界还有

How can I be content

那种气味时，

when there is still

我怎能满足？

that odor in the world?