Giant whispering and coughing from 

盛大的耳语和咳嗽声来自

Vast Sunday-full and organ-frowned-on spaces 

星期天人满为患、令管风琴皱眉的广阔空间，

Precede a sudden scuttle on the drum, 

突然一阵疾促的鼓点，

'The Queen', and huge resettling. Then begins 

女王驾临？然后是落座的轰鸣。

A snivelling of the violins: 

接着，小提琴的抽泣开始了：

I think of your face among all those faces, 

在所有的脸中，我念想你的脸

Beautiful and devout before 

美丽而虔诚，在

Cascades of monumental slithering, 

一片浩瀚的音乐的滑翔前，

One of your gloves unnoticed on the floor 

你的一只手套悄悄掉在地上，

Beside those new, slightly-outmoded shoes. 

落在崭新的，稍稍过时的鞋子旁。

Here it goes quickly dark. I lose 

天很快黑下来了。我失去了

All but the outline of the still and withering 

一切，除了安静而枯萎的

Leaves on half-emptied trees. Behind 

树叶映在那微微寂寥的树上的轮廓。在

The glowing wavebands, rabid storms of chording 

热烈的波段后面，遥远而疯狂的

By being distant overpower my mind 

和弦风暴更加无耻地

All the more shamelessly, their cut-off shout 

抑制我的头脑，他们碎裂的尖叫

Leaving me desperate to pick out 

留下我绝望地搜寻

Your hands, tiny in all that air, applauding.

你的手，在那样的空气里微弱的，鼓掌。