有一首最温柔的诗，要留在未来才写。

There’s a most gentle poem, saved for the future to write.

那时，你不再属于我，我也只属于一些路过的水浪

By then, you’ll no longer belong to me, and I only to the breeze.

我们可以分享对对方的恨意，如同人们剥开橘子，

Then we’ll share, like wedges of a tangerine,

递给彼此一瓣

what each hated in the other. Or we’ll vie

也可以争相忘记，像抢先跳落瀑布的一场雨

to forget, like rain leaping through the waterfall.

那些轻轻看着你笑的时刻

Those moments I watched you smile

已迎来它们的秋天，纷纷凋谢

have met their autumn, dying off one by one.

我们纷纷离开曾经是的那个自己，

One by one, we leave the selves we were,

仿佛已真的去到生命最残忍的边界，

as if coming to the cruelest edge of life,

然后，那么随意地踏了过去

then casually stepping over.

那些谈话中突然闯入的沉默是残忍的

Cruel silence suddenly enters the conversation,

你倾侧而来的面庞是残忍的，我熟知它的曲线

your profile cruel, pressing close, that curve I learned well,

那么，我也是残忍的

for which I too am cruel.

你的手指，我的嘴唇，它们触碰过的自由与不自由

Your fingers, my lips, the freedom and unfreedom they touched,

都是残忍的……那些不断有雪降落、消融的肉体

all cruel. The bodies in which snow falls and melts,

被虚空紧紧怀抱着的生活，沙丘般坍塌与涌起

the lives embracing emptiness, the dark

沙丘的黑暗里，回旋着甜蜜的歌声是残忍的

collapsing and resurging like a dune, the sweet circling songs,

熄灭是残忍的，一些不说的话

cruel. Extinguishment is cruel, what’s said, unsaid,

不写的字，不被等待的等待，都是残忍的……

unwritten words, the wait unawaited, all cruel.

有一首最温柔的诗，要为这些令人醉去的残忍而作

There’s a most gentle poem, composed only for venomous cruelty,

为时间镂刻它并不存在的花纹

engraving for time its unseen pattern.

你我离去的舞步里，爱情是一位星辰间的盲人

In your steps and mine dancing off, love is a blind man amid stars,

在茫茫光明中，秉着自己的黑暗之烛

in boundless brightness, clasping his own dark candle.