The grasses in the field have toppled,

田野中的草成片倒下，

and in places it seems that a large, now

看来曾有一只巨兽

absent, animal must have passed the night.

在夜间经过，此刻已不知身在何方。

The hay will right itself if the day

草垛还可以重新变干，

turns dry. I miss you steadily, painfully.

如果明日艳阳重现。夜以继日我思念你，肝肠寸断。

None of your blustering entrances

你激烈的气息并未进入，

or exits, doors swinging wildly

也未离开，让门绕着枢轴

on their hinges, or your huge unconscious

狂暴旋转，也没有你下意识的

sighs when you read something sad,

巨大叹息，当你读到悲伤的文字，

like Henry Adams’s letters from Japan,

比如亨利·亚当斯在克罗芙亡故后，

where he traveled after Clover died.

从日本发回的游记。

Everything blooming bows down in the rain:

所有绽放的花朵都在雨中低头：

white irises, red peonies; and the poppies

白鸢尾，红芍药；还有那些罂粟

with their black and secret centers

草地上散落着平躺着

lie shattered on the lawn.

它们黑色和隐秘的心。