……我想和您一起生活，

in a one-horse town

在一座小城，

where it’s always dusk

那里有永恒的黄昏，

and bells don’t stop chiming

有永恒的钟声。

and the pubs echo

乡村的小旅店里，

with old clocks

古老的钟表

time drizzling

轻响，像时间的水滴。

and sometimes, at sundown, from an attic a flute

傍晚，阁楼里时而传出

and the player in the window

长笛声，

framed by big tulips

吹笛的人站在窗口。

and if you didn’t love me, I wouldn’t care.

窗口有硕大的郁金香。

或许，您甚至没爱过我……

In the centre of our room – a huge tiled oven

each tile branded with an image

　*　*　*

– rose – heart – ship –

and in the single window

房间中央是贴瓷砖的大火炉，

snow three times.

每块瓷砖都是一幅画：

玫瑰，心，舰船。

You would lie – I love you

唯一的窗户上是

like this: idle, indifferent, carefree.

雪，雪，雪。

Now and then, the fizz

of a struck match,

您或许躺着，躺成我爱的模样：

慵懒，漠然，无忧。

the roll-up glowing down

时而刺耳地划着

to a tremble of ash

一根火柴。

suspended

and you too lazy to even flick it

香烟忽明忽暗，

and everything always

烟灰像灰色的短柱，

on fire.

在烟头处久久颤抖。

您甚至懒得弹掉烟灰，

整支香烟飞进了炉火。

一九一六年十二月十日