春之美神

露丝斯通

The abandoned campus,

被摈弃的校园，

empty brick buildings and early

空空的砖瓦房当六月初

Junewhen you came to visit me;

你来看望我；

crossing the states midway,

穿行于州际途中，

the straggled belts of little roads;

束带般的小路伸延，

hitchhiking with your portable typewriter.

提着你的便携打字机搭车。

The campus, an academy of trees,

校园，一个树林的学院，

under which some hand, the wind's I guess,

在树下有些，我想是风的手，

had scattered¹ the pale light

已经消散了千百

of thousands of spring beauties,

春之美神的苍白光线，

petals² stained with pink veins³;

花瓣染上桃红色的血管；

secret, blooming for themselves.

秘密的，为它们自己开放。

We sat among them.

我们坐在它们中间。

Your long fingers, thin body,

你那修长的手指，清瘦的身材，

and long bones of improbable genius;

和未必会是天才的长骨；

some scattered gene⁴ as Kafka must have had.

一些象卡夫卡肯定有的分散的基因。

Your deep voice, this passing dust of miracles.

你深沉的嗓音，通行奇妙尘间。

That simple that was myself, half conscious,

单纯如我，神志半醒，

as though each moment was a page

似乎每一瞬间都是词语出现之页；

where words appeared; the bent⁵ hammer of the type

弯型字锤

struck against the moving ribbon.

撞击移动的色带

The light air, the restless leaves;

清淡的空气，烦躁的树叶；

the ripple⁶ of time warped⁷ by our longing⁸.

我们的渴望翘曲起时间的微澜。

There, as if we were painted

在那里，好象我们被

by some unknown impressionist.

几个无名印象派画家绘入了画面。