有一种音乐对应这种悲伤。

There is a music to this sadness.

在一个某处有两人在跳舞的房间里。

In a room somewhere two people dance.

我不想说欲望就是一切。

I do not mean to say desire is everything.

“一个半空的杯子”不就是半杯？

A cup half empty is simply half a cup.

多少次我们在那里又不在那里？

How many times have we been there and not there?

我看到过女侍者们把一晚上挣的小费投进自动点唱机，

I have seen waitresses slip a night's

她们的眼睛不对任何特定的事情说“yes”。

worth of tips into the jukebox, their eyes

欲望不是我要说的点。

saying yes to nothing in particular.

今晚你的名字只是小事一桩

Desire is not the point.

跌落着穿过这悲伤。

Tonight your name is a small thing

我们孤独地醒来，

falling through sadness. We wake alone

在充满木棍、稻草和风的房间里。我们在栈桥的尽头多久地伫立

in houses of sticks, of straw, of wind.

看水从脚下流过？

How long have we stood at the end of the pier

从这个距离可以看到灯光绕着坦帕湾

watching that water going?

划出曲线，如愿骨将被折断

In the distance the lights curve along

那夜晚跨骑在半心半意的诺言上，

Tampa Bay, a wishbone ready to snap

只有半个月亮照亮该死的天空。

and the night riding on that half promise,

我们周围净是这样的玩意儿。

a half moon to light the whole damned sky.

有时候我们几乎爱得足够。

This is the way things are with us.

我们说我可以做到这点，

Sometimes we love almost enough.

我可以做得比这还好，

We say I can do this, I can do

而信念被它自己版本的“事实”所滋养。

more than this and faith feeds

最终心灵和自己反目，

on its own version of the facts.

就像饥饿恨盛汤的勺子。

In the end the heart turns on itself

我们在流逝的风景中许下一个愿。

like hunger to a spoon.

而悲伤是另一个参照点，

We make a wish in a vanishing landscape.

远处的音乐也是。

Sadness is one more reference point

两个人从厨房的桌子上起身，

like music in the distance.

就像要跳舞。

Two people rise from a kitchen table

他们知道多少

as if to dance. What do they know

关于爱情的事？

about love?