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WAVE
For months I'd moved across the open water
Like a wheel under its skin,a frictionless
and by then almost wholly abstract matter
with nothing in my head beyond the bliss
of my own breaking: how the long foreshore
would hear my full confession ,and I'd drain
into the shale till I was filtered pure.
There was no way to tell on that bare plain
but I felt my power run down with the miles
and by the time I saw the scattered sails,
the painted front and children on the pier
I was no more than a fold in her blue gown
and knew I was already in the clear.
I hit the beach and swept away the town.
-----Don Paterson
作者是蘇格蘭詩人音樂人。Rain是他最新的一本詩集，並獲得'Forward Prize for best collection.'
登載在3月3日這一期New Yorker上麵。
我讀了挺感動，想把它翻譯成中文，但又怕失去那一份感動就抄在這裏，如果有誰讀了也喜歡，就好了。
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