十二月下旬；我爸爸和我

Late December: my father and I

前往纽约，去马戏团。

are going to New York, to the circus.

他举着我

He holds me

在他肩膀上在刺骨的风中：

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

白纸碎片

scraps of white paper

吹上铁路线

blow over the railroad ties.

我爸爸喜欢

My father liked

象这样站着，举起我

to stand like this, to hold me

所以他看不见我。

so he couldn't see me.

我记得直视前方

I remember

进入我爸爸看见的世界；

staring straight ahead

我学会

into the world my father saw;

承受它的空虚，

I was learning

大雪不落，

to absorb its emptiness,

在我们周围旋转。

the heavy snow

not falling, whirling around us.