那個假日，我們把臉轉向別處。

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

書放在桌上，我們無心閱讀。

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

遠處是偉大的世界，愛與背叛的世界，

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

不為人知，沒有命名。永恒，常新。

unknown, unnamed, always, still completely new.

孩童時代的朋友與我們並肩行走

Those whom we’d known since childhood walked beside us

保持沉默，有些人突然消失，

in silence, some vanished abruptly,

帶一聲驚恐的尖叫——

with a brief cry of fear—

像燕子，總是那樣惶惑。

like swallows, who are always frantic.

我們十分疲憊，但沒有人抱怨。

We were tired, but no one complained.

夜晚短暫，拂曉透明，

Nights were short, the dawns were transparent,

傍晚時，黃鸝在樹林裏哭泣，

at evening orioles wept in the woods,

而我們對街道和公園更熟悉了。

but we knew the streets and parks better.

我們不緊不慢地遊蕩，謹慎觀察四周，

We wandered slowly, looking carefully around us,

記憶中沒有詞語——我們想：

noting words in our memory—we thought:

這些應當在事後寫下。

we’ll have to write them down later.

我們拉著手，蹚過沙子

We held hands, wading through the sand

在廢棄的郊外。火車轟響

of abandoned suburbs. Heavy trains

從前方遠處經過，

passed before us in the distance,

大海在咆哮，接著是黑暗。

the ocean roared, and darkness.