Mornings, afternoons,

每天，幾乎每天，我在這條街上

I cut through this street,

匆匆走過。僻靜而肮髒

past drab, neglected Russian buildings,

舊式俄羅斯建築和黝黑的樹木，以及

dingy trees, here and there a beauty shop,

一間間新開的美容廳和小吃店

snack bars. Flashy signs, business slow,

掛著漂亮的招牌和清冷的生意

a tattered magazine no one reads.

一本沒人翻閱的舊雜誌——

Glories gone amid the shifting light,

歷史，逝去的繁華和悲哀

the changing scenes, its miseries accrued.

在白晝和變化的街景中沉積

If you like, those pensioners can spin a tale—

如果你願意，那些老人會告訴你

White Russian ladies, exiles,

流亡的白俄貴婦和窮音樂家的軼事

indigent musicians.

但現在衰老了，他們和這條街

Feeble now, the old hunch in late autumn sunlight,

在初冬麻痹的陽光中

lulled with this street, solitary,

像中了魔法的石頭，坐著

mute stones beneath a spell.

沉默，孤獨，而且憂鬱