他俩走在海边的树林里

They are walking in the woods along the coast

和茂密的草地上，走累了，遇见

and in a grassy meadow, wasting, they come upon

两棵不起眼的苍老的苹果树。

two old neglected apple trees. Moss thickened

苔藓爬满枝条，树木看似已腐烂，

every bough and the wood of the limbs looked rotten

然而却花满枝头，小小的新叶

but the trees were wild with blossom and a green fire

如绿色火焰在垂死的树枝上闪烁。

of small new leaves flickered even on the deadest branches.

蓝眼草、罂粟花、大片的鲁冰花

Blue-eyes, poppies, a scattering of lupine

洒满了草地，还有一种复杂如豹纹的

flecked the meadow, and an intricate, leopard-spotted

绿叶花，他俩不知道名字。

leaf-green flower whose name they didn’t know.

猪牙花，他说；她说，山慈菇。

Trout lily, he said; she said, adder’s-tongue.

苹果花原始的透亮的白色火焰

She is shaken by the raw, white, backlit flaring

令她颤抖。他很兴奋，

of the apple blossoms. He is exultant,

仿佛某些预感之事得到证实，

as if some thing he felt were verified,

看着她，期待类似的反应。

and looks to her to mirror his response.

如果是午后，我失望的薄月

If it is afternoon, a thin moon of my own dismay

如一道伤痕向着他俩东面的天空退去。

fades like a scar in the sky to the east of them.

也许，他在梦里疯狂地敲打那扇

He could be knocking wildly at a closed door

紧闭的门。同时，她想，那苔藓很像

in a dream. She thinks, meanwhile, that moss

码头上轻轻晒干的海草。

resembles seaweed drying lightly on a dock.

撕裂的血肉，是寒冷的白花里

Torn flesh, it was the repetitive torn flesh

不断被撕裂的血肉的欲望

of appetite in the cold white blossoms

让她心惊。此刻它们仿佛温柔了，

that had startled her. Now they seem tender

她在令她厌恶的地点丈量了树，

and where she was repelled she takes the measure

让它们进去。但他已不再

of the trees and lets them in. But he no longer

拥有苹果树了。这与夕阳时

has the apple trees. This is as sad or happy

潮起与潮落一样悲伤或快乐。

as the tide, going out or coming in, at sunset.

此刻，他俩看见一只小金翅雀

The light catching in the spray that spumes up

在田野的光芒里，闪现黯淡的金色，

on the reef is the color of the lesser finch

与礁石上泛起的浪花间的光

they notice now flashing dull gold in the light

是相同的颜色。他俩一同羡慕这鸟儿，

above the field. They admire the bird together,

这使他俩靠近，他俩又开始散步。

it draws them closer, and they start to walk again.

一个小男孩同样地漫步于旅馆的走廊。

A small boy wanders corridors of a hotel that way.

门背后，一个女佣。另一扇门背后，

Behind one door, a maid. Behind another one, a man

一个穿条纹睡衣的男人在刮胡子。

in striped pajamas shaving. He holds the number

他在头脑中严肃而又细致地

of his room close to the center of his mind

记下他的房间号码，仿佛那是钥匙，

gravely and delicately, as if it were the key,

然后在陌生人中间任意地游荡。

and then he wanders among strangers all he wants.