曾经有一个想法

There was a thought

想着

who thought

—就像其他想法那样—

—as some thoughts like to do—

他会自由地

he would be free

在乳白色的街道闲逛。

to roam on milky streets.

但是他跑得飞快

but he flew so fast,

他撞到了靠近工厂的油灯，

he crashed into the lamp near the factory,

他着陆于你翻起的衣领，

he landed on your upturned collar,

想着

thinking

—看起来，现在已经是一种习惯—

—now a habit already, it seems—

这个衣领，因而变成

that this collar, turned up thus,

一堵垒起他的挫败的墙。

is a wall to fortress his demise.

“我爱你，”他低声说，

“i love you”, he whispered,

又或者他说，“我在家。”

or maybe he said, “i am home.”

当你被一块黑煤砖绊倒

he almost dropped when you

他差点坠落

tripped over a soot black brick.

“抓紧我，”他央求。

“hold on to me,” he begged.

你在冬天的严寒里打喷嚏，

when you sneezed your winter cold,

他低声说，“走吧

he whispered to you, “let’s go

一起去清晨的面包店，就我和你”，

to the early bakery, just me and you,”

暖和，舒服，以及更多。

to warmth, comfort, and more.

你毫不在乎地翻下

you carelessly turned down

你的衣领，

your collar,

和那个想法：他消失了，

and the thought: he disappeared,

想都没想，我害怕！

unthought-of, I fear!