人这一生总没时间

A man doesn’t have time in his life

去完成任何事

to have time for everything.

他试图抓住它

He doesn’t have seasons enough to have

但伸手时

a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes

时光已逝

Was wrong about that.

照着传道书信神

也是虚空

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,

to laugh and cry with the same eyes,

人不得不在恨的时候

with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,

同时去爱

to make love in war and war in love.

不得不用同一双眼

And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,

流泪和笑

to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest

用同一双手投掷石头

what history

然后又一次聚拢它们

takes years and years to do.

在战争中做爱

在爱中作战

A man doesn’t have time.

When he loses he seeks, when he finds

去恨同时宽恕

he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves

记住同时遗忘

he begins to forget.

建构同时拆解

大吃同时消化

And his soul is seasoned, his soul

——那些千万年冲积而成的历史

is very professional.

Only his body remains forever

人总丢失时间

an amateur. It tries and it misses,

当他忘了来时路

gets muddled, doesn’t learn a thing,

当他记起失去的旧事

drunk and blind in its pleasures

当他忘了自己所爱

and its pains.

当他重新再爱

那一刻又开始遗忘

He will die as figs die in autumn,

Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,

他的灵魂不腐

the leaves growing dry on the ground,

并且相当专业

the bare branches pointing to the place

但他的身体始终是业余的

where there’s time for everything.

一次次努力一次次失去

晕头转向一无所得

在悲欣交集中

沉醉和迷失

他会在秋天死去

如一粒无花果

枯萎

但自成一体

满身甘甜

枯叶落了一地

干的枝条指着上天

只有那里

万物各有其时