Is this picture of Picasso’s, this “hoard

毕加索的画，《累积的

Of destructions,” a picture of ourselves,

破败》，我们自己的一副肖像，

Now, an image of our society?

现在，是否成为我们社会的写照？

Do I sit, deformed, a naked egg.

我是否坐着，变形，一只赤裸的鸡蛋，

Catching at Good-bye, harvest moon.

来得及告别，丰收的月亮，

Without seeing the harvest or the moon?

却没有看见丰收或月亮？

Things as they are have been destroyed.

如其所是的事物已被破坏。

Have I? Am I a man that is dead

我呢？难道我是一个死去的人，

At a table on which the food is cold?

坐在食物冰凉的餐桌前？

Is my thought a memory, not alive?

我的思想是一种回忆，并不存在于当下？

Is the spot on the floor, there, wine or blood

地板上的那个点，无论它

And whichever it may be, is it mine?

是红酒还是血，它都是我的？