Night after night

一夜又一夜

darkness

黑暗

enters the face

笼罩了百合的

of the lily

脸，

which, lightly,

轻轻地

closes its five walls

关闭了

around itself,

它的五面墙，

and its purse

它的

of honey,

花蜜袋，

and its fragrance,

以及它的芬芳，

and is content

它心满意足地

to stand there

站在

in the garden,

花园里，

not quite sleeping,

并不安静地睡去，

and, maybe,

而是

saying in lily language

用百合的语言，

some small words

说着一些

we can’t hear

我们无法听见的私语，

even when there is no wind

尤其是

anywhere,

一丝风也没有时，

its lips

它的唇

are so secret,

守口如瓶，

its tongue

它的语调

is so hidden –

那么隐秘——

or, maybe,

或者，它

it says nothing at all

什么也没说

but just stands there

只是站在那儿，

with the patience

带着植物

of vegetables

和圣人似的

and saints

耐心，

until the whole earth has turned around

直到整个地球转了一圈，

and the silver moon

银色的月亮

becomes the golden sun –

变成金色的太阳——

as the lily absolutely knew it would,

百合仿佛对此了然于心，

which is itself, isn’t it,

它自己，难道不正是

the perfect prayer?

最完美的祈祷？