Almost November.

十一月即將來臨。

Light the color and heft of lead.

光，鉛的顏色，鉛的重量。

Air raw with rain.

昨夜，在一陣狂喜之中，

Last night, in a single swoon,

鄰居家的白蠟樹抖落了

my neighbor’s ash dropped

它全部的葉子，旋即

all its leaves at once

一張厚實而精致的織毯——

in a weave thick and intricate—

只有某個酋長夢中

one only some dreaming Emir’s

高明的波斯製毯師膽敢——

Persian carpet-master might dare—

綠色，褐色，金黃，梅紅。

green, brown, yellow-gold, plum.

*

*

在這樣的日子，

Days like this,

我有時會關掉書房裏所有的燈

I sometimes turn off all my study lights

幽禁起黑暗。

and box the darkness in.

有一盞在我老式的電動打字機上方燃燒

One lamp burning over my old black Selectric

像爐膛裏的火。

like firelight.

心臟在哼唱。

Its heart humming.

*

*

昨天，

Yesterday,

從數英里內的每個方向，

for miles in every direction,

椋鳥的雲團不斷膨脹，變換著角度啁啾不停，

clouds of starlings ballooned, veering & twittering,

下面是玉米地和豆田，

over cornfield & beanfield,

草壟和荒地。

weedrow & swale.

剝落著。包裹著。飄揚的緞帶。

Exfoliating. Infolding. Ribboning.

黑如字典。

Black as a dictionary.

黑如你眼窩中波動的凝視。

Black as the wobble at the pivot of your gaze.

在也不在。

There and not there.

本身和他者。

Itself and the other.

構成與解構。

Making and unmaking.

超維度。

Metadimensional.

全屬自己的語言。

A language all its own.

會眾和聖像。

Congregation & ikon.

*

*

臨近傍晚，

Early evening,

太陽終於歸來

the sun has finally returned

奇襲天空，房屋，樹，鄰居頹廢的草坪，

surprising sky, houses, trees, the neighborhood’s scraggy lawns,

用欲滴的色彩。

with fresh color.

朝西的窗上有金子迸落。

Spanging gold off west-facing windows.

它反射的光芒

Its reflected light

化作你最後一口上等威士忌的芳醇。

mellowing down to the hue of the last of your last good scotch.

灌木和樹迎來歸家的鳥。

Birds homing to every bush and tree.

小的鳥。

Little ones.

明亮的眼。

Bright eyes.

我們自食其力。

We earn our keep.