我想象这座午夜时的森林：

I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:

有些什么别的东西在活动，

Something else is alive

除了钟的孤独

Beside the clock’s loneliness

以及这张移动着我的手指的白纸。

And this blank page where my fingers move.

我透过窗户看见没有星辰：

Through the window I see no star:

有什么别的东西在临近，

Something more near

虽然深深藏在黑暗中

Though deeper within darkness

却正在进入静寂。

Is entering the loneliness:

冰凉，轻微得象黑暗里的雪花，

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,

一双狐狸的鼻子触着细枝、嫩叶；

A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;

一双眼睛帮着它活动，在这里

Two eyes serve a movement, that now

又是这里，在这里，又是这里，

And again now, and now, and now

雪地上的脚印在树丛间

Sets neat prints into the snow

越来越近，一个瘸着的影子

Between trees, and warily a lame

小心翼翼地迟疑在树桩边，

Shadow lags by stump and in hollow

一个空虚的身体大胆地来到，

Of a body that is bold to come

穿过空地，像一只眼睛，

Across clearings, an eye,

广阔深邃的碧绿颜色，

A widening deepening greenness,

闪闪发亮，全神贯注，

Brilliantly, concentratedly,

来到干它自己的事情，直至

Coming about its own business

带着突然强烈炙热的狐狸气味

Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox

它进入了头脑里黑暗的洞穴。

It enters the dark hole of the head.

窗外依然没有星辰，钟声滴答，

The window is starless still; the clock ticks,

纸上却已印下了文字。

The page is printed.