地下室厨房里，她们把早餐盘子洗得乒乓响；

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens

沿着众人践踏的街道边沿，

And along the trampled edges of the street

我感到女仆们潮湿的灵魂

I am aware of the damp souls of house maids

在地下室前的大门口沮丧地发芽。

Sprouting despondently at area gates.

一阵阵棕色波浪般的雾从街的尽头

The brown waves of fog toss up to me

向我抛上一张张扭曲的脸,

Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,

又从一位穿着泥污的裙子的行人的脸上

And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts

撕下一个空洞的微笑，微笑逗留在半空，

An aimless smile that hovers in the air

又沿着屋顶一线消失了。

And vanishes along the level of the roofs.