The apple on its bough is her desire,——

枝上的苹果是她的欲望——

Shining suspension, mimic of the sun.

闪光的悬浮，太阳的仿拟。

The bough has caught her breath up, and her voice,

树枝高高攫住她的呼吸，她的声音，

Dumbly articulate in the slant and rise

在倾斜中那沉默地清晰诉说，和她

Of branch on branch above her, blurs her eyes.

头顶上方枝桠上升起的枝桠，模糊着她的眼。

She is prisoner of the tree and its green fingers.

她是树和其根根绿色手指的囚徒。

And so she comes to dream herself the tree,

于是她开始梦见自己是树，

The wind possessing her, weaving her young veins,

风拥着她，波动她年轻的叶脉

Holding her to the sky and its quick blue,

向着天空和它急遽的蓝托举起她

Drowning the fever of her hands in sunlight.

将她手的热切淹没在阳光里。

She has no memory, nor fear, nor hope

除了脚下的青草和投影之外

Beyond the grass and shadows at her feet.

她别无回忆，亦无恐惧，无希冀。