我看到自己在远处，深入一个镜子里，

I see myself far off, in a mirror

一个暗淡无光的镜子。

that has lost its shine.

这是什么时候，

What time is it?

哪一年？我站着，赤身裸体，

What year? I stand, naked,

在一个什么地方的旅馆房间的水槽前，

at the sink of a hotel room somewhere,

拧干衣服。你躺在床上。

wringing a cloth. You lie on the bed.

你在看什么？

What are you watching?

你了解我的身体，

You know my body

比我自己还了解，知道当它平躺下，

better than I, where it aches,

会在哪里痛。某种丝绸般的闪光：

when it lied. A certain silken gleam:

在更远的远处，我记起

from even further back, I remember

有一根线想把

a suture of railroad track

定居的文明和风滚草的漂泊缝在一起，

trying to bind some siding of civilization to a tumbleweed, as if that would hold.

让它们如铁轨般并行，仿佛它能够坚持住。

It held, scar on my desert of a heart.

它坚持住了，那铁轨是我荒漠心灵的一道疤痕。

Love, how many years till--

它坚持了多少年，亲爱的？

an ocean away

直到在大洋的另一边

and no doctor at hand

在这个陌生的国度，

in a strange country-- you knelt over me

身边并没有医生——是你跪在我身旁

in a rented room and removed a few stitches

在租来的房间里，

from my skin? You showed

从我的皮肤上拆掉一些缝线。你表现出

the awkwardness of one

从没缝过任何东西的笨拙，还有从来没有

who couldn't sew, the tenderness

拆掉过任何东西的

of one who'd never ripped anything out.

温柔。