这人有一个模型。但不是

The person has a mould. But not

它的动物。天使般的人们

Its animal. The angelic ones

说起灵魂，精神。它是

Speak of the soul, the mind. It is

一只动物。蓝色吉他——

An animal. The blue guitar—

它的爪子在上面提议，它的尖牙

On that its claws propound, its fangs

诉说它荒凉的日子。

Articulate its desert days.

蓝色吉他是一个模型？是壳？

The blue guitar a mould? That shell?

好吧，北风终究会吹响

Well, after all, the north wind blows

一只号角，在号角上它的胜利

A hom, on which its victory

是一只蠕虫，正在一根稻草中创作。

Is a worm composing on a straw.