诗是最高的虚构，女士。

Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.

以道法为基，建立中堂

Take the moral law and make a nave of it

从此中堂幽通天堂。

And from the nave build haunted heaven.

既良心抵折于股掌，

Thus, The conscience is converted into palms,

如风琴渴望诗章。

Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.

我们大体认同。概因一目了然。

We agree in principle. That’s clear. But take

而以相反之定律为列廊，

The opposing law and make a peristyle,

从此列廊，举办舞会于

And from the peristyle project a masque

行星之上。由此，我们猥亵，

Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness,

不洁之碑，终于淫逸，

Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,

平衡于双掌，

Is equally converted into palms,

潦乱如萨克斯声响，自掌抵掌，

Squiggling like saxophones. And palm for palm,

女士，我们是自身肇始之处。任凭，

Madame, we are where we began. Allow,

行于行星之域

Therefore, that in the planetary scene

你不近人情之笞者，塞入，

Your disaffected flagellants, well-stuffed,

他们蹒跚列行，

Smacking their muzzy bellies in parade,

为这崇高新奇之事骄傲，

Proud of such novelties of the sublime,

叮当咚嘡，

Such tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk,

可能，仅可能，女士，他们鞭子

May, merely may, madame, whip from themselves

快乐喧嚣于围中。

A jovial hullabaloo among the spheres.

使嫠妇畏退。而虚构之物

This will make widows wince. But fictive things

明灭如其所是。于嫠妇畏退之时明灭最常。

Wink as they will. Wink most when widows wince.