十二月底：我和爸爸

Late December: my father and I

去纽约，去马戏团。

are going to New York, to the circus.

他驮着我

He holds me

在他肩上，在寒风里：

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

白色的碎纸片

scraps of white paper

在铁路枕木上飞舞。

blow over the railroad ties.

My father liked

爸爸喜欢

to stand like this, to hold me

这样站着，驮着我

so he couldn't see me.

所以他看不见我。

I remember

我还记得

staring straight ahead

直直地盯着前面

into the world my father saw;

盯着爸爸看到的世界；

I was learning

我在学习

to absorb its emptiness,

吸收世界的空虚，

the heavy snow

大片的雪花

not falling, whirling around us.

绕着我们飞旋，并不落下。