The day dawns with scent of must and rain,

天色破晓，带着发酵的葡萄汁和雨水的气息，

Of opened soil, dark trees, dry bedroom air.

犁开的土地、昏暗的树林、卧室的干燥空气的气息。

Under the fading lamp, half dressed – my brain

在逐渐暗淡的灯下，半裸着——我的思绪

Idling on some compulsive fantasy-

游荡在一些强迫性的幻想上——

I towel my shaven jaw and stop, and stare,

我用毛巾擦拭剃光的下巴，停下，注视，

Riveted by a dark exhausted eye,

被一只疲惫的黑眼睛、

A dry downturning mouth.

一张干燥垂败的嘴所吸引。

It seems again that it is time to learn,

好像又到了体悟生活的时刻，

To which, for the time being, I return.

我暂且回到这般时刻。

In this untiring, crumbling place of growth

在这不倦的、逐渐崩解的成长之地，

Now plainly in the mirror of my soul

现在，在我的灵魂之镜中，

I read that I have looked my last on youth

我清楚地领会，我对青春已看过了最后一眼，

And little more; for they are not made whole

又多看一点；因为到了基督的年纪，

That reach the age of Christ.

它们没有得以完满。

Below my window the awakening trees,

窗下，苏醒中的树木，

Hacked clean for better bearing, stand defaced

为了结果更多而被修剪整齐，面目全非地站立，

Suffering their brute necessities,

承受着残忍的必要之事，

And how should the flesh not quail that span for span

那被经年累月损毁得更严重的肉身

Is mutilated more? In slow distaste

怎能不胆怯？在迟缓的厌恶中，

I fold my towel with what grace I can,

我尽量体面地叠好毛巾，

Not young and not renewable, but man.

不再年轻，无法再生，但足够勇敢。