今天下午在草地上，我想起

In the meadow this afternoon, I fetch

许多荒唐的回忆。想起

any number of crazy memories. That 

殡仪馆的人问我妈妈是否愿意

undertaker asking my mother did she 

买下一整套衣服让我爸爸穿戴好下葬，

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

或者只是那件外衣？我不想

or just the coat? I don’t 

提供这个问题的回答，

have to provide the answer to this,

或任何别的什么。但是，嘿，他穿着裤子

or anything else. But, hey, he went

就进了熔炉。

into the furnace wearing his britches.

今天早上我看着他的照片。

This morning I looked at his picture.

大个儿，敦实的家伙，在他生命里的

Big, heavyset guy in the last year

最后一年。拎着一条大鲑鱼，

of his life. Holding a monster salmon

站在加利福尼亚，福尔图娜他住过的

in front of the shack where he lived 

小木屋前。我的爸爸。

in Fortuna, California. My dad.

现在他已化为乌有。化为一抔灰烬，

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

和几根细小的骨头。无论如何

and some tiny bones. No way

这绝不是

is this any way 

一个男人结束生命的方式。

to end your life as a man.

尽管正如海明威正确地指出过，

Though as Hemingway correctly pointed out,

所有的故事，如果已延续得够远，

all stories, if continued far enough,

就以死亡为结束。没错。

end in death. Truly.

啊，已经快是秋天了。

Lord, it’s almost fall.

一群加拿大鹅正飞过

A flock of Canada geese passes

高高的天空。那匹小母马抬起

high overhead. The little mare lifts 

她的头，哆嗦了一下，又埋头

her head, shivers once, goes back 

吃草。我想我愿意躺在

to grazing. I think I will lie down

这片甜蜜的草地里。我愿意闭上眼，

in this sweet grass. I’ll shut my eyes

听着风声，和翅膀的声音。

and listen to wind, and the sound of wings.

只是做一小时的梦，为待在这儿而不是那儿

Just dream for an hour, glad to be here

而高兴。就是那样。但是仍会想起

and not there. There’s that. But also

那可怕的念头，

the terrible understanding 

那个我爱过的人已经走了，

that men I loved have left

去了另一个，更小的地方。

for some other, lesser place.