从我们聊天的那个温暖

Out of the warm primordial cave

原始的洞穴里，杰克已经离开了。

of our conversations, Jack’s gone.

不再有毯子下的轻声笑语

No more chit-chat under the blankets

毯子夹在椅子上，边角塞进抽屉。

pegged over chairs and nipped in drawers.

在他五岁之前，我的一只耳朵

Throughout his first five years an ear

始终为他敞开着，至少也是半掩，

always open, at worst ajar,

我发现自己仍在侧耳

I catch myself still listening out

留意他的声音，在这栋规整的房子里

for sounds of him in the sensible house

没有任何动静，只有洗衣机

where nothing stirs but the washing machine

咔嗒搅动着。我正松开

which clicks and churns. I’m loosening his arms

他环在我脖子上的手臂，把自己

clasped round my neck, detaching myself

从他那绵长而不舍的吻别中挣脱出来。

from his soft protracted kiss goodbye.

好孩子，他的身影在长长的

Good boy, diminishing down the long

走廊里逐渐缩小，走进那个偌大

corridors into the huge unknown

而未知的集合礼堂，每个词都是陌生的，

assembly hall, each word strange,

甚至他的名字，从克拉克内尔老师的嘴中念出。

even his name on Miss Cracknell’s tongue.