These pines, these fall oaks, these rocks,

这些松、橡树、这些岩石，

This water dark and touched by wind—

这一汪幽水承接着风的触摸——

I am like you, you dark boat,

我便是你呀，你这幽暗的小舟，

Drifting over water fed by cool springs.

随波漂荡在清泉灌注的湖水上。

Beneath the waters, since I was a boy,

自从孩童时代，我便一直梦见

I have dreamt of strange and dark treasures,

水下有幽暗的奇珍异宝，

Not of gold or strange stones, but the true

不是黄金、也非宝石，而是真正的

Gift, beneath the pale lakes of Minnesota.

上天馈赠，埋在明尼苏达苍白的湖底。

This morning also, drifting in the dawn wind,

一如今晨，随波飘荡在晓风中，

I sense my hands, and my shoes, and this ink—

我感觉着我的双手、鞋子以及这墨迹——

Drifting, as all of the body drifts,

飘着，随着这整个身躯的飘荡，

Above the clouds of the flesh and the stone.

浮在这肉身和石头的云朵之上。

A few friendships, a few dawns, a few glimpses of grass,

三五兰交，几回破晓，几瞥青草，

A few oars weathered by the snow and the heat,

三五支桨橹历经了数度严冬酷暑，

So we drift toward shore, over cold waters,

我们如此飘向岸边，滑过凉凉的湖水，

No longer caring if we drift or go straight.

再不管我们是随波逐流还是迎风破浪。