月亮在田野上掉落一两根羽毛。

The moon drops one or two feathers into the fiels.

深色的麦子聆听着。

The dark wheat listens.

一动不动。

Be still.

此刻。

Now.

就在那儿，月亮的幼鸟们，正在

There they are, the moon's young, trying

磨砺它们的翅膀。

Their wings.

树隙中，一位苗条的女子仰起脸庞，

Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow

动人的影子，她时而迈入空中，时而不见

Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone

完全消失于空中。

Wholly, into the air.

我独自站在一棵老树旁，不敢呼吸，

I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe

也不敢动。

Or move.

我听。

I listen.

麦子向后靠着自己的黑暗，

The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,

而我靠着我的。

And I lean toward mine.