This tree had taken root in the far side of the garden,

此树扎根花园的远侧，

tall, slender, solitary—perhaps its height

高高地，修长而孤单──或许它的高度

betrayed a secret idea of intrusion. It never produced

泄露了侵入的暗念。它从未

either fruit or flower, only a long shadow that split the garden in two,

开花或结果，只有劈开花园的长影，

and a measurement not applicable to the stooped, laden trees.

那于弯腰背负苦痛之树不适用的度量。

Every evening, when the glorious sunset was fading,

每天傍晚，辉煌的落日褪去，

a strange, orange bird roosted silently in its foliage

一只奇怪的，橙色的鸟悄悄栖息在树叶里

like its only fruit—a small golden bell

如同唯一的果实──小小金色钟

in a green, enormous belfry. When the tree was cut down,

在绿的庞大的钟楼里。就在那时树被砍倒，

this bird flew above it with small, savage cries,

这只鸟带着微弱而原始的叫声在上面飞翔，

describing circles in the air, describing in the sunset

悬空中画出圆圈，日落中描写着

the inexhaustible shape of the tree, and this small bell

树的无穷形状，这口小钟

rang invisibly on high, and even higher than the tree’s original height.

于高空隐秘地敲响，甚至高过原先的树。