It was a holiday, but we turned away from the holiday.

那個假日，我們把臉轉向別處。

Books lay on the table, we didn’t read them now.

書放在桌上，我們無心閱讀。

In the distance was the great world, a world of love and betrayal,

遠處是偉大的世界，愛與背叛的世界，

unknown, unnamed, always, still completely new.

不為人知，沒有命名。永恒，常新。

Those whom we’d known since childhood walked beside us

孩童時代的朋友與我們並肩行走

in silence, some vanished abruptly,

保持沉默，有些人突然消失，

with a brief cry of fear—

帶一聲驚恐的尖叫——

like swallows, who are always frantic.

像燕子，總是那樣惶惑。

We were tired, but no one complained.

我們十分疲憊，但沒有人抱怨。

Nights were short, the dawns were transparent,

夜晚短暫，拂曉透明，

at evening orioles wept in the woods,

傍晚時，黃鸝在樹林裏哭泣，

but we knew the streets and parks better.

而我們對街道和公園更熟悉了。

We wandered slowly, looking carefully around us,

我們不緊不慢地遊蕩，謹慎觀察四周，

noting words in our memory—we thought:

記憶中沒有詞語——我們想：

we’ll have to write them down later.

這些應當在事後寫下。

We held hands, wading through the sand

我們拉著手，蹚過沙子

of abandoned suburbs. Heavy trains

在廢棄的郊外。火車轟響

passed before us in the distance,

從前方遠處經過，

the ocean roared, and darkness.

大海在咆哮，接著是黑暗。