“My sisters,” she says,

「一個女人，」她說，「我的姐妹們

“aren’t you one woman?”

難道不是同一個？

Your pale lips, proud breasts

妳們蒼白的嘴唇，被愛情

propped by love,

撐起的驕傲的乳房

your sad thighs men adored,

妳們被男人愛過的悲傷的大腿

the woods where so many springs were planted. Now in that ancient

種植了多少春天的樹林？而那衰老

withered chest, the river of years drifts through heavy dusk.

乾癟的胸腹裏，歲月的河流正通過沉沉黃昏。

With children grown, men leave.

當孩子長大，男人們也離開

You walk toward death and deep night.

妳們向著死亡和深夜行走

As a slim poplar bends its youth into decay

當年輕的白楊腰肢彎成朽木

your love fulfills itself in pain and absolution.

妳們在傷害和寬恕中將愛完成。

Ah, tender lips, golden skin!

啊，嬌嫩的嘴唇，黃金的皮膚！

Damn the pebble’s immortality—

願你們詛咒那石頭裏的永生——

compared to perpetual embrace, isn’t the inscription on a stone

和一個從未鬆開的懷抱相比，碑上的銘文

darker, colder than earth mixed with your hair?

難道不比頭髮間的泥土更黑、更冰冷？」