钟表很遗憾，钟表很悲伤。

The clocks are sorry, the clocks are very sad.

一个停了，一个继续敲错时间。

One stops, one goes on striking the wrong hours.

小草在阳光下灼伤得厉害，

And the grass burns terribly in the sun,

草根偷偷变黄。

The grass turns yellow secretly at the roots.

院子里的椅子突然空了，天空也空了，

Now suddenly the yard chairs look empty, the sky looks empty,

天空显得辽阔而空旷。

The sky looks vast and empty.

红路上车水马龙，一切都在继续。

Out on Red Road the traffic continues; everything continues.

记忆也不会沉睡，它还在继续。

Nor does memory sleep; it goes on.

回忆的蝴蝶翩翩起舞，

Out spring the butterflies of recollection,

我想我第一次明白了

And I think that for the first time I understand

这个天井美丽而平凡的光线

The beautiful ordinary light of this patio

甚至可能是一颗心的深色泥土。

And even perhaps the dark rich earth of a heart.

(他们说，床单被扯了下来。

(The bedclothes, they say, had been pulled down.

我不想描述它。我不想描述。

I will not describe it. I do not want to describe it.

不，床单湿透了，扭曲着。

No, but the sheets were drenched and twisted.

它们就是悲伤的手帕）。

They were the very handkerchiefs of grief.)

让夏天带着小学生的号角和喷泉来吧

Let summer come now with its schoolboy trumpets and fountains.

但岁月已逝，岁月终将结束。

But the years are gone, the years are finally over.

只有

And there is only

长长的荒凉的花边人行道

This long desolation of flower-bordered sidewalks

转过街角，继续前行、

That runs to the corner, turns, and goes on,

消失，继续

That disappears and goes on

消失在黑色的遗忘中，消失在没有广告牌和过去的世界里

Into the black oblivion of a neighborhood and a world

没有广告牌，没有昨天。

Without billboards or yesterdays.

有时，一轮悲伤的明月会降临，为屋顶的瓦片浇水。

Sometimes a sad moon comes and waters the roof tiles.

但岁月已逝。不再有岁月

But the years are gone. There are no more years.