How quiet. The world I’ve seen

多麼寂靜。我看見過的世界

more startling than a rainbow.

比彩虹更使我驚訝。

If I speak my wish to a playing card,

如果我對一張紙牌說出希望

betting a bouquet of dim light

賭注一束逐漸黯淡的光

as a tranquil walnut awaits the old magician,

像一只虔誠的核桃等待年邁的魔法師，

why can’t I pray

我為何不能進行祈禱

and like a shadow tell the sin?

像一個影子，說出罪？

You’ve been flying. Though my eyes close

你一直在飛翔。我閉上眼睛

I can’t see how to pray, to atone for a soul,

卻不懂得祈禱，為一顆心靈贖罪，

but finally we will meet

而我們將相聚在一起

—”at this age, wind brushes the trees beyond the window.”

——「到這個年齡，風吹著窗外的樹」

I offer my portrait,

我將呈上我的肖像

unclever self,

一個不夠靈敏的人，剝開漆黑的預感

skinning the pitch-dark premonition,

在試驗室裏，解剖一本本單薄的書。

dissecting a thin pamphlet in a lab.

我無法忘記被鏟掉的青草

I can’t forget the peeled green sod,

有著超常力量的樹。

the trees’ great powers.

你從這些樹中挖出迅速腐朽的土地

You dredge soil from these dying roots,

取走源頭。而我必須說

digging out the source. At this very moment,

這一次，是短暫的空無

transient emptiness

占據了所有樹林，

floods the groves.

除了無法闡明的愛

Aside from inexplicable love,

窗外搖曳的樹，我們一無所有。

the motions of those trees

outside the window,

we own nothing.