How again after months there is awe.

几个月后竟又感到敬畏。

The most personal moment of the day

一天中最私人的时刻，

appears unannounced. People wear leather.

毫无征兆地出现。人们身着皮衣。

People refuse to die. There are strangers

人们拒绝死去。有陌生人

who look like they could know your name.

看上去知道你叫什么。

And the smell of a bar on a cold night,

还有寒夜中的酒吧气味，

or the sound of traffic as it follows you home.

或者在你回家路上，不绝于耳的车辆声。

Sirens. Parties. How balconies hold us.

警笛声。派对。阳台护着我们。

Whatever enough is, it hasn’t arrived.

不管什么是够，它都还没有到达。

And on some dead afternoon

在某个沉寂的下午，

when you’ll likely forget this,

在你很可能已经忘记的时候，

as you browse through the vintage

你翻看着古董

again and again—there it is,

一遍又一遍——这不就是

what everyone’s given up

每个人放弃的所有，

just to stay here. Jewelled hairpins,

为了留在这里。宝石簪子，

scratched records, their fast youth.

划花的唱片，他们一闪而过的青春。

Everything they’ve given up

他们放弃这一切

to stay here and find more.

就为了留在此处，找到更多。