当滑动门在我背后关上，

As the doors glide shut behind me,

世界闪着火焰回归——

the world flares back into being—

我重新存在，恢复了自我，

I exist again, recover myself,

阳光并未因为黑色窗框而变得暗淡，

sunlight undimmed by dark panes,

我胳膊上感到的温热是大地的呼吸。

the heat on my arms the earth’s breath.

微风从头到脚舔舐我

The wind tongues me to my feet

就像一只母鹿在清洁新生的小鹿。

like a doe licking clean her newborn fawn.

在我背后，日子被生命迹象所计量，

At my back, days measured by vital signs,

我的嘴张着，我的胳膊摊开，

my mouth opened and arm extended,

有一个得癌症的男人已经萎缩成一个孩子

the nighttime cries of a man withered

夜夜我都听见他的哀嚎，

child-size by cancer, and the bells

以及走廊里提醒挂瓶已空的铃声。

of emptied IVs tolling through hallways.

在我面前，生命——神秘的，庸常的——

Before me, life—mysterious, ordinary—

用它壮健的双翼收敛着我的疼痛。

holding off pain with its muscular wings.

当我走上马路牙子，一只橘色的蛾子

As I step to the curb, an orange moth

俯冲进曾经摆在我病房里的

dives into the basket of roses

玫瑰花篮，

that lately stood on my sickroom table,

那些花瓣在它的不停劝诱下终于松动，

and the petals yield to its persistent

繁复的金色在其中展开。

nudge, opening manifold and golden.