If as shame is to memory, so too desire,

回忆让人羞耻，或许欲念也是？

then is this desire, this cloak of shadows,

这欲念像阴影做成的斗篷，

that I wrap close around me, that I

我把它紧紧裹在身上，

refuse to take off?

拒绝脱下。

But the lake looks endless.

但那湖水看不到边，

And my boat’s increasingly but a slowish swimmer,

而我的小船缓慢地游过波浪

across the waves – I’ve known

这缓慢与日俱增——我已经领教过

hurt, I mean; and I have been afraid. Sometimes

痛苦，我也曾忧心忡忡。

the difference between forgetting

忘记带盔甲武器

to bring along artillery and showing up

和故意手无寸铁投入战争

on purpose to the war unarmed

到底有什么区别？

is just that: a difference. Sometimes a lost tune,

还是有区别的，我知道。有时它只是一种失语的声音

unreckoned on, unearned, resurfaces anyway. Just because.

没有意识，无法获得，但是却重新浮出水面。因为，所以。

Am I not the animal by belief alone I myself make possible?

我是不是一只动物，仅仅被我自己的信念造就的动物？