I

1

The winter evening settles down

冬日之晚落下，

With smell of steaks in passageways.

过道里散发着牛排味。

Six o’clock.

六点钟。

The burnt-out ends of smoky days.

雾霾日子燃尽的烟蒂。

And now a gusty shower wraps

蓦地一阵骤雨袭来，

The grimy scraps

卷起脚边枯叶的

Of withered leaves about your feet

垃圾，和

And newspapers from vacant lots;

空地上的报纸。

The showers beat

雨击打着

On broken blinds and chimney-pots,

破的百叶窗和烟囱帽；

And at the corner of the street

而在街的转角，

A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

一匹孤单的拉车马冒着热气，刨着蹄子。

And then the lighting of the lamps.

街灯亮起。

II

2

The morning comes to consciousness

清晨于是有了意识，伴着

Of faint stale smells of beer

隐约的、腐败的啤酒味儿

From the sawdust-trampled street

从碎木屑践踏的街道飘来，

With all its muddy feet that press

当道上的泥泞的鞋子踩过

To early coffee-stands.

走向那些早开的咖啡铺子。

而在那由时间所连缀着的

With the other masquerades

各种别样的假面舞会当中，

That time resumes,

你会想到那一只只的手们

One thinks of all the hands

拉起那些肮脏不堪的窗帘

That are raising dingy shades

在一千个配套的出租屋里。

In a thousand furnished rooms.

3

III

你从床上掀掉毯子，

You tossed a blanket from the bed,

你仰卧，你等待；

You lay upon your back, and waited;

你打着盹儿，看着夜

You dozed, and watched the night revealing

显现一千个肮脏的景象，

The thousand sordid images

由此构成了你的灵魂；

Of which your soul was constituted;

它们在天花板上明灭闪耀。

They flickered against the ceiling.

当整个世界重新回归，

And when all the world came back

当光沿着百叶窗爬上，

And the light crept up between the shutters

你听见麻雀在沟渠边叽喳——

And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,

你对街道竟产生一种幻觉，

You had such a vision of the street

对此街道自身也难以理解。

As the street hardly understands;

坐在床边，在那儿

Sitting along the bed’s edge, where

你卷着头发上的纸带子，

You curled the papers from your hair,

或者用污浊的双手

Or clasped the yellow soles of feet

握住那发黄的脚掌。

In the palms of both soiled hands.

4

IV

他的灵魂紧绷着划过天际

His soul stretched tight across the skies

消隐在城市楼房的后面，

That fade behind a city block,

或者被脚连续不断地践踏

Or trampled by insistent feet

在四点和五点以及六点。

At four and five and six o’clock;

和那短粗的手指塞着烟斗，

And short square fingers stuffing pipes,

和那晚报以及对某些

And evening newspapers, and eyes

确定事物的确定的眼睛。

Assured of certain certainties,

而一条污黑的街道的良心

The conscience of a blackened street

正急于肩负起这个世界。

Impatient to assume the world.

我深感于一些幻觉，它们

I am moved by fancies that are curled

萦绕着这些图景，并抱紧——

Around these images, and cling:

关于某种有着无限温柔

The notion of some infinitely gentle

和无限痛苦的东西。

Infinitely suffering thing.

用手擦擦嘴巴然后大笑吧！

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;

诸多个世界旋转着，就像

The worlds revolve like ancient women

旧日女人们在空场上捡煤渣。

Gathering fuel in vacant lots.