Someday, when I set down my pen,

總有一天，我將放下筆

moving slowly, you may picture

開始緩慢的散步。你能想像

my calm steps weighed with grief.

我平靜的腳步略帶悲傷。那時

That moment, no longer perplexed,

我已對我享用的一切付了賬

I’ll have paid for all my pleasures. Neither refugee

不再惶然。我不是一個逃難者

nor named for any glory,

也沒有可以提起的榮耀

I simply let things come:

我只是讓一切圖景到來：

that fir tree, this bo tree.

一棵杉樹，和一棵

In silence I mark

菩提樹。我默默記下

empty stretches of the vast soul,

偉大心靈的廣漠。無名生命的

exhaustions of the numberless unnamed.

倦怠。死去的願望的靜謐。

Serenities of murdered hopes.

而我的夜幕將帶著我的新生

Yet the veils of my nights unfurl

啟程。我依然笨拙，不識春風：

new life. Though my clumsiness

深邃只是一口古井。溫暖

can’t sense spring wind,

是路上匆匆行人的心

sublimity’s the mouth

一切都將改變，將消失

of an ancient well. Warm

沒有一個可供回憶的湖畔。甚至

beat the hearts of quick passersby.

我最愛的曲子也不能把我唱盡

Everything shifts, disappearing,

我不知道該朝左還是朝右。我千百次

no lakeshore of memories.

將自己喚起，仰向千百次眺望過的

Not even my favorite melody

天空。而它終於等來晦暗——這

can sing me through. Face left

最真實的光，把我望進去

or right? A hundred wakings

這難卸的絕望之美，讓我獨自出神。

to the far off sky,

a hundred stares.

When dusk finally welcomes darkness,

its truest light, this look takes me in,

a despair exquisite,

impossible to leave. Alone

in this trance, let me be.