此树扎根花园的远侧，

This tree had taken root in the far side of the garden,

高高地，修长而孤单──或许它的高度

tall, slender, solitary—perhaps its height

泄露了侵入的暗念。它从未

betrayed a secret idea of intrusion. It never produced

开花或结果，只有劈开花园的长影，

either fruit or flower, only a long shadow that split the garden in two,

那于弯腰背负苦痛之树不适用的度量。

and a measurement not applicable to the stooped, laden trees.

每天傍晚，辉煌的落日褪去，

Every evening, when the glorious sunset was fading,

一只奇怪的，橙色的鸟悄悄栖息在树叶里

a strange, orange bird roosted silently in its foliage

如同唯一的果实──小小金色钟

like its only fruit—a small golden bell

在绿的庞大的钟楼里。就在那时树被砍倒，

in a green, enormous belfry. When the tree was cut down,

这只鸟带着微弱而原始的叫声在上面飞翔，

this bird flew above it with small, savage cries,

悬空中画出圆圈，日落中描写着

describing circles in the air, describing in the sunset

树的无穷形状，这口小钟

the inexhaustible shape of the tree, and this small bell

于高空隐秘地敲响，甚至高过原先的树。

rang invisibly on high, and even higher than the tree’s original height.