并不是因为被遮起的镜子，而是

It’s not the mirror that is draped but

因为我们之间仍有话未说。为何

what remains unspoken between us. Why

要说死亡，此定然之事？为何

say anything about death, how

要说身体如何驱使无数蠕虫

the body comes to deploy the myriad worm

仿佛它是一个能够把握的概念，而不是

as if it were a manageable concept not

令人烧心断肠的实质？将之奉上，犹如

searing exquisite singularity? To serve it up like

一篇悼词或一个故事，关于我或你的

a eulogy or a tale of my or your own

煎熬。这是某种自我贬抑。

suffering. Some kind of self-abasement.

如是我们继续醒来面对被斩首的太阳和树丛

And so we continue waking to a decapitated sun and trees

继续令我恼火。慈善的心脏

continue to irk me. The heart of charity

承受自己那组基因。你膝盖的弯曲处

bears its own set of genomes. You lug a bacterial swarm

拖着汹涌的菌群，寄生虫蠕动翻滚

in the crook of your knee, and through my guts

穿过我的肠胃。有谁曾全然活出自我？

writhe helminth parasites. Who was ever only themselves?

在大莱普提斯*，你母亲和我年轻时，看到

At Leptis Magna, when your mother and I were young, we came across

众神的雕像，脸和脚都被破坏了。但是

statues of gods with their faces and feet cracked away by vandals. But

那列美杜莎护卫的头则无人胆敢抹污。

for the row of guardian Medusa heads. No one so brave to deface those.

当她说话，当你的母亲说话，就连拴着绳的

When she spoke, when your mother spoke, even the leashed

灰狗也会受惊呆立。我也会受惊呆立。

greyhound stood transfixed. I stood transfixed.

我把生命交给陌生人；不让它接近所爱。

I gave my life to strangers; I kept it from the ones I love.

儿子，她唯一的血脉。只有在你身上，她的血才流淌。

Her one arterial child. It is just in you her blood runs.