在着火的房子里我吃早餐。

In the burned house I am eating breakfast.

你理解：并没有真的房子，并没有真的早餐，

You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,

但我真的在这里。

yet here I am.

熔化的勺子刮着

The spoon which was melted scrapes against

熔化的碗。

the bowl which was melted also.

旁边一个人都没有。

No one else is around.

母亲和父亲，

Where have they gone to, brother and sister,

他们去哪儿了？也许

mother and father? Off along the shore,

他们去了海边。他们的衣服还挂在衣架上，

perhaps. Their clothes are still on the hangers,

他们的碗碟堆在水槽旁边

their dishes piled beside the sink,

水槽旁边是柴炉

which is beside the woodstove

熏黑的水壶放在炉架上，

with its grate and sooty kettle,

每个细节清晰可见、

every detail clear,

锡杯和起皱的镜子。

tin cup and rippled mirror.

天色明亮无人唱歌、

The day is bright and songless,

湖水湛蓝，森林守望。

the lake is blue, the forest watchful.

东边的云层

In the east a bank of cloud

像黑色的面包一样静静地升起。

rises up silently like dark bread.

我能看到油布上的漩涡、

I can see the swirls in the oilcloth,

我能看到玻璃上的瑕疵、

I can see the flaws in the glass,

看见上面阳光击打的耀斑。

those flares where the sun hits them.

我看不见自己的手脚

I can't see my own arms and legs

也不知道这是陷阱还是祝福、

or know if this is a trap or blessing,

发现自己回到了这里，这间房屋的一切

finding myself back here, where everything

早已结束，

in this house has long been over,

水壶和镜子，勺子和碗

kettle and mirror, spoon and bowl,

包括我自己的身体

including my own body,

我当时的身体

including the body I had then,

我现在的身体

including the body I have now

当我坐在这张清晨的餐桌前，孤独而幸福、

as I sit at this morning table, alone and happy,

孩子赤裸的脚踩在烧焦的地板上

bare child's feet on the scorched floorboards

(我几乎可以看到）

(I can almost see)

在我燃烧的衣服里，那薄薄的绿色短裤

in my burning clothes, the thin green shorts

和邋遢的黄色T恤

and grubby yellow T-shirt

拥着我肉体的燃烧的灰烬，不存在的，

holding my cindery, non-existent,

光芒四射的肉体。炽热。

radiant flesh. Incandescent.