I do remember darkness, how it snaked

我确实记得那黑暗，它如何蜿蜒

through the alders, their ashen flanks

穿过白杨树，它们的灰色侧面

in our high-beams the color of stone.

在我们的远光灯下显出石头的颜色。

That hollow slap as floodwater hit

洪水拍打汽车侧面的空洞的声音。

the sides of the car. Was the radio on?

收音机开着吗？

Had I been asleep?

我曾经睡着了吗？

Sometimes you have to tell a story

有时，你必须用一生讲述一个故事

your entire life to get it right.

才能说对它。

Twenty-two and terrified, I had married you

二十二岁，心中充满恐惧，我嫁给了你

but barely knew you. And for forty years

但几乎不认识你。在过去的四十年里

I’ve told this story wrong. In my memory

我一直讲错这个故事。在我的记忆中

you drove right through it, the river

你直接开车穿过了河流，河水

already rising on the road behind us,

已经在我们身后上升，

no turning around.

无法回头。

But since your illness I recall it

但自从你生病以来，我对它的回忆

differently. Now that I know it’s possible

发生了变化。现在我知道真的可能失去你，

to lose you, I’m finally remembering

我终于记起了

it right. That night,

真实的事件。那天晚上，

you threw that car in reverse,

你挂上倒挡，

and gunned it. You found us

猛踩油门。你为我们

another way home.

找到了另一条回家的路。