The woman is perfected.

那女人完美了。

Her dead

她死去的

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,

身体现出成就的微笑，

The illusion of a Greek necessity

一种希腊必然性的幻像

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,

在她托加袍的涡卷中流淌，

Her bare

她赤裸的

Feet seem to be saying:

双脚似乎在说：

We have come so far, it is over.

我们已来到这么远，结束了。

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,

每个亡儿都盘起，一条白蛇，

One at each little

各自对着每个小小的

Pitcher of milk, now empty.

奶罐，现在是空的。

She has folded

她已将他们

Them back into her body as petals

拢回自己的身体之内如一朵

Of a rose close when the garden

玫瑰合起花瓣，当花园

Stiffens and odors bleed

僵硬而香气渗流

From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

自那朵夜花甜蜜的深喉。

The moon has nothing to be sad about,

月亮并无可哀之事，

Staring from her hood of bone.

正从她骨质的帽兜中凝望。

She is used to this sort of thing.

她对这种事习以为常。

Her blacks crackle and drag.

她的丧服噼啪细碎拖行。

译注：

托加袍，Toga，古罗马市民穿的宽大长袍。