那女人完美了。

The woman is perfected.

她死去的

Her dead

身体现出成就的微笑，

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,

一种希腊必然性的幻像

The illusion of a Greek necessity

在她托加袍的涡卷中流淌，

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,

她赤裸的

Her bare

双脚似乎在说：

Feet seem to be saying:

我们已来到这么远，结束了。

We have come so far, it is over.

每个亡儿都盘起，一条白蛇，

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,

各自对着每个小小的

One at each little

奶罐，现在是空的。

Pitcher of milk, now empty.

她已将他们

She has folded

拢回自己的身体之内如一朵

Them back into her body as petals

玫瑰合起花瓣，当花园

Of a rose close when the garden

僵硬而香气渗流

Stiffens and odors bleed

自那朵夜花甜蜜的深喉。

From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

月亮并无可哀之事，

The moon has nothing to be sad about,

正从她骨质的帽兜中凝望。

Staring from her hood of bone.

她对这种事习以为常。

She is used to this sort of thing.

她的丧服噼啪细碎拖行。

Her blacks crackle and drag.

译注：

托加袍，Toga，古罗马市民穿的宽大长袍。