In the meadow this afternoon, I fetch

今天下午在草地上，我想起

any number of crazy memories. That 

许多荒唐的回忆。想起

undertaker asking my mother did she 

殡仪馆的人问我妈妈是否愿意

want to buy the entire suit to bury my dad in,

买下一整套衣服让我爸爸穿戴好下葬，

or just the coat? I don’t 

或者只是那件外衣？我不想

have to provide the answer to this,

提供这个问题的回答，

or anything else. But, hey, he went

或任何别的什么。但是，嘿，他穿着裤子

into the furnace wearing his britches.

就进了熔炉。

This morning I looked at his picture.

今天早上我看着他的照片。

Big, heavyset guy in the last year

大个儿，敦实的家伙，在他生命里的

of his life. Holding a monster salmon

最后一年。拎着一条大鲑鱼，

in front of the shack where he lived 

站在加利福尼亚，福尔图娜他住过的

in Fortuna, California. My dad.

小木屋前。我的爸爸。

He’s nothing now. Reduced to a cup of ashes,

现在他已化为乌有。化为一抔灰烬，

and some tiny bones. No way

和几根细小的骨头。无论如何

is this any way 

这绝不是

to end your life as a man.

一个男人结束生命的方式。

Though as Hemingway correctly pointed out,

尽管正如海明威正确地指出过，

all stories, if continued far enough,

所有的故事，如果已延续得够远，

end in death. Truly.

就以死亡为结束。没错。

Lord, it’s almost fall.

啊，已经快是秋天了。

A flock of Canada geese passes

一群加拿大鹅正飞过

high overhead. The little mare lifts 

高高的天空。那匹小母马抬起

her head, shivers once, goes back 

她的头，哆嗦了一下，又埋头

to grazing. I think I will lie down

吃草。我想我愿意躺在

in this sweet grass. I’ll shut my eyes

这片甜蜜的草地里。我愿意闭上眼，

and listen to wind, and the sound of wings.

听着风声，和翅膀的声音。

Just dream for an hour, glad to be here

只是做一小时的梦，为待在这儿而不是那儿

and not there. There’s that. But also

而高兴。就是那样。但是仍会想起

the terrible understanding 

那可怕的念头，

that men I loved have left

那个我爱过的人已经走了，

for some other, lesser place.

去了另一个，更小的地方。