A man talking to his ex-wife on the phone.

一个男人跟他前妻在电话里交谈。

He has loved her voice and listens with attention

他爱她的嗓音，留心倾听

to every modulation of its tone. Knowing

她语调的每一次转变。仔细地

it intimately. Not knowing what he wants

分辨着这嗓音。不知他想从她的声音，

from the sound of it, from the tendered civility.

从那温柔端庄中得到什么。

He studies, out the window, the seed shapes

他察看，窗外，观赏树上

of the broken pods of ornamental trees.

裂开的果荚种子形状。

The kind that grow in everyone's garden, that no one

那种生长在每家花园的树，除了园艺师，

but horticulturists can name. Four arched chambers

没人叫得出名字。四个淡绿色的

of pale green, tiny vegetal proscenium arches,

拱形内庭，植物的小舞台拱幕，

a pair of black tapering seeds bedded in each chamber.

一对黑圆锥形种子着床于各自密室。

A wish geometry, miniature, Indian or Persian,

希望的几何学，缩影，印度人或波斯人，

lovers or gods in their apartments. Outside, white,

情人还是众神，在他们的寓所里。外面，白色，

patient animals, and tangled vines, and rain.

耐心的动物，缠结的葡萄藤，雨。