Eyes wide like an owl’s, an aspirin-pale face

双目圆睁如鸮，面色惨白如纸

foretells in lamplight how it accumulates age.

于灯下预言马齿之徒增。

Somewhat masked, somewhat naked, there’s no way

遮掩着，也裸露着，无法知晓

to know what others see when looking at it.

旁人从这脸上看到什么。

All five of the body’s senses crowd

身体的五感，全都拥挤在

on this small planet a weather of hair surrounds.

这小小的星球，毛发围绕成它的气候。

My face is not a democracy—the eyes are tyrants

我的脸并不民主——眼睛是暴君

and the ears are radical dissenters.

耳朵是激进的异见者。

In the conversations of eyebrows, mine are whispers.

在眉毛的交谈里，我的眉毛总是低语。

Like the window at night, the face reflects too,

如同夜窗，脸庞也映照

uncertain how to change when greeting itself

若它面对自己，不知会有何改变

(and is it not cruel when another’s face

（有时他人的脸庞映不出

won’t reflect acknowledgment of you?).

对你的认同，呜呼哀哉！）。

My mother, my father, and my brother are found

从我的容貌和表情里

in the blurring of feature and expression.

看得出我的母亲、父亲和兄长。

Cynicism finds no purchase here;

这里并无一丝嘲讽；

the same cannot be said for sadness

悲哀却有迹可循

(and look deeper—anger hides in the jaw).

（往深处看——愤怒藏在下颚）。

And while the nose quietly broods

鼻子默默沉思

like an actor rehearsing his soliloquy,

如演员排练独白，

the empty page of the forehead, when I raise my brows,

前额的空白书页，当我的眉毛扬起，

fills suddenly with questions.

忽然写满了疑问。