Late December: my father and I

十二月底，我的父亲和我

are going to New York, to the circus.

去纽约，去马戏团

He holds me

他驮着我

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

在他的肩膀上，在寒风中：

scraps of white paper

白色的碎纸片

blow over the railroad ties.

在铁路的枕木上方飞舞

My father liked

我的父亲喜欢

to stand like this, to hold me

就这样站着，驮着我

so he couldn't see me.

所以他看不见我。

I remember

我仍记得

staring straight ahead

我笔直地盯着前方

into the world my father saw;

望向我父亲所看到的世界里；

I was learning

我试着学习

to absorb its emptiness,

独自吸收他的空虚

the heavy snow

硕大的雪花

not falling, whirling around us.

它不落下，它绕着我们飞旋