花季将尽的日子里，世界停滞了，肥硕的花朵

Late in the season the world digs in, the fat blossoms

再坚持挺立一刻。

hold still for just a moment longer.

一切生物都不尽如人意，

Nothing looks satisfied,

却也找不到继续生长的理由：

but there is no real reason to move on much further:

这个状态也不错了；

this isn’t a bad place;

何不假装

why not pretend

这就是我们的愿望？

we wished for it?

树丛安于弯曲的拙态

The bushes have learned to live with their haunches.

绣球花也无意改变自己

The hydrangea is resigned

惨淡迟疑的话语。

to its pale and inconclusive utterances.

花季临近尾声

Towards the end of the season

保有形体

it is not bad

也不算太糟。假如欢快无异于

to have the body. To have experienced joy

举手之劳

as the mere lifting of hunger

也仍然是欢愉

is not to have known it

一丝不少。烟草叶

less. The tobacco leaves

不在乎是否被收割

don’t mind being removed

囤积到长长的烟叶槽里——所有的用途

to the long racks—all uses are astounding

都让被使用者感到震惊。

to the used.

生命中总有些时刻，编织起来便成就一片天堂——

There are moments in our lives which, threaded, give us heaven—

比如说，正午时分，或者引力

noon, for instance, or all the single victories

所有微小的胜利，还有野葛的藤蔓，

of gravity, or the kudzu vine,

最脆弱的生长狂，

most delicate of manias,

在这个生长季

which has pressed its luck

它已经竭尽所能，

闪烁着得意的亮绿色。

this far this season.

边缘染上了不耐烦的暗色，仿佛有风掠过。

It shines a gloating green.

再也没有什么如此轻易，生命

Its edges darken with impatience, a kind of wind.

一个个被卷走，好比遗落的针脚，萱草干枯的茎叶

Nothing again will ever be this easy, lives

标记我们无法延长的静谧

being snatched up like dropped stitches, the dry stalks of daylilies

marking a stillness we can’t keep.