For my birthday,

在我生日那天，

my wife gave me nine horse heads,

妻子送了我九个马头，

ghostly photographs on squares of black marble,

幽灵般的照片嵌在黑色大理石方块上，

nine squares set in one large square,

九个方块嵌在一个大方形里，

a thing so heavy that the artist himself

一件如此沉重的东西，以至于艺术家本人

volunteered to hang it

主动前来把它挂好——

from a wood beam against a white stone wall.

挂在一根木梁上，倚着一面白色石墙。

Pale heads of horses in profile

马的侧影，苍白的头颅，

as if a flashcube had caught them walking in the night.

仿佛闪光灯在它们夜行时捕捉到了它们。

Pale horse heads

苍白的马头

that overlook my reading chair,

俯视着我的阅读椅，

the eyes so hollow they must be weeping,

眼眶如此空洞，想必在哭泣，

the mouths so agape they could be dead---

嘴巴如此大张，仿佛已经死去——

the photographer standing over them

摄影师曾站在它们上方，

on a floor of straw, his black car parked by the stable door.

脚下是稻草铺成的地面，他的黑色汽车停在马厩门口。

Nine white horses,

九匹白马，

or one horse the camera has multiplied by nine.

或一匹被相机乘以九的马。

It hardly matters, such sadness is gathered here

这几乎不重要——如此多的悲伤汇聚在这里，

in their long white faces

在它们长长的白色脸上，

so far from the pasture and the cube of sugar---

远离牧场，远离那块方糖——

the face of St. Bartholomew, the face of St. Agnes.

圣巴多罗迈的脸，圣艾格尼丝的脸。

Odd team of horses,

奇怪的马队啊，

pulling nothing,

什么也不拉动，

look down on these daily proceedings.

俯视着这日复一日的起居。

Look down upon this table and these glasses,

俯视这张桌子、这些玻璃杯、

the furled napkins,

这些叠好的餐巾、

the evening wedding of the knife and fork.

刀与叉的晚间婚礼。

Look down like a nine-headed god

像九头神一样俯视我们，

and give us a sign of your displeasure

给我们一个信号——你的不悦，

or your gentle forbearance

或你温和的宽容，

so that we may rejoice in the error of our ways.

好让我们为迷途而欢欣。

Look down on this ring

俯视这一圈

of candles flickering under your pale heads.

在你苍白的头颅下闪烁的烛火。

Let your suffering eyes

让你那双受苦的眼睛

and your anonymous deaths

和你那些无名的死亡，

be the bridle that keeps us from straying from each other

成为勒住我们、不让我们彼此走散的缰绳，

be the cinch that fastens us to the belly of each day

成为把我们系紧在每一天腹部上的肚带——

as it gallops away, hooves sparking into the night.

当这一天疾驰而去，蹄声溅出火花，隐入夜色。