谈不上街道，房子太少了，

Scarcely a street, too few houses

只有一条小道

To merit the title; just a way between

从唯一的酒店到唯一的铺子，

The one tavern and the one shop

再不前进，消失在山顶，

That leads nowhere and fails at the top

山也不高，侵蚀着它的

Of the short hill, eaten away

是多年积累的绿色波涛，

By long erosion of the green tide

草不断生长，越来越接近

Of grass creeping perpetually nearer

这过去时间的最后据点。

This last outpost of time past.

很少发生什么；一条黑狗

So little happens; the black dog

在阳光里咬跳蚤就算是

Cracking his fleas in the hot sun

历史大事。倒是有姑娘

Is history. Yet the girl who crosses

挨门走过，她那速度

From door to door moves to a scale

超过这平淡日子两重尺寸。

Beyond the bland day's two dimensions.

那么停住吧，村子，因为围绕着你

Stay, then, village, for round you spins

慢慢转动着一整个世界，

On a slow axis a world as vast

辽阔而富于意义，不亚于伟大的

And meaningful as any posed

柏拉图孤寂心灵的任何构想。

By great Plato's solitary mind.