我一直在努力寻找一种方式

I’m always struggling for a way

来描述你所是，父，

to write about who you are, Father,

因为这样更容易告诉人

because it’s easier to tell someone

清晨的光最初的几分钟怎样

how morning light splices the first minutes

嵌入千万条林荫大道，

into thousands of tree-lined avenues,

或者湿润的木兰花瓣的香气

or the smell of wet magnolia petals

怎样恢复我们的脚步在春天的山坡。

revive our steps on the spring hillsides.

这些都是人们所抓住的东西，

These are things people have held,

尽管只是短暂的，当一天结束时。

even if only briefly, as a day ended.

但这就是一切：它们结束了也必结束

But that’s it: they ended and will end

在最后一个春天过去之后，

and after the last spring passes,

在最后的花瓣腐烂成泥之后

after the final petal molders into soil

甚至在光发酵成

and even after light ferments into

淡出的群星的一道裂缝之后，你仍将

a fracture of fading stars, you will be

永远如常：这就够了。

as you always have been: what is enough.