白天多麼生動，多麼明亮，

The days are so vivid, so bright

即便那細長稀疏的棕櫚樹

that even the slim, sparse palms

也罩上一層白色遺忘之塵。

are covered in the white dust of neglect.

蛇在葡萄園裏靜靜滑行，

Serpents in the vineyards slither softly,

黃昏時分，大海逐漸變暗，

but the evening sea grows dark and,

停懸於頭頂的海鷗

suspended overhead like punctuation

像最高處文本中的標點，不輕易躁動。

in the highest script, the seagulls barely stir.

一滴葡萄酒刻在你的唇上。

A drop of wine’s inscribed upon your lips.

石灰岩的山坡慢慢融入

The limestone hills slowly melt

地平線，一顆星星出現。

on the horizon and a star appears.

深夜的廣場，一支水手管弦樂隊

At night on the square an orchestra of sailors

白衣服一塵不染

dressed in spotless white

演奏一曲肖斯塔科維奇的小華爾茲；

plays a little waltz by Shostakovich; small children

小孩子在哭，彷彿早已洞悉

cry as if they’d guessed

那歡樂的音樂的真諦。

what the merry music’s really saying.

我們被鎖進世界的盒子，

We’ve been locked in the world’s box,

愛讓我們解脫，時間教我們死亡。

love sets us free, time kills us.