Each day I’ve looked

每一天，我深深望進

into the beveled mirror

桌上這面

on this desk, vainly

斜邊鏡，徒勞地

asking it questions

向鏡中的映像

reflection cannot answer.

提問。

Outside, fog and frost

窗外有霧，有霜，

and silver olive leaves.

橄欖葉鍍上了白銀。

I can see at most

我的視線至多

a half field’s depth,

望到田野中央，

then the trees are lost

遠處的樹一片朦朧

in the gauzy mist

籠罩於霧紗

like thin unbraceleted arms

像一隻隻不假裝飾的細手臂

swallowed by billowing sleeves.

被鼓動的衣袖吞沒。

I’d like to face

我渴望直面

that stringent looking glass

對我開誠佈公的

transparent to myself

嚴峻的鏡子

as beads of rain

當雨珠

pooled on a green leaf.

在綠葉上匯流。

But ever self-composed

前所未有，我保持著

in self-regard,

自我的從容，

and my eyes opaque

目色晦暗

as a dancer’s leotard,

如芭蕾演員的舞衣。

to see straight through myself

若要洞穿自己，親愛的，

I need what love supplies:

我需要愛

its dark arrow, dear,

向我射出它兇險的箭，

not its white lies.

不要白色謊言。