There’s a certain slant of light On winter afternoons That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
Heavenly hurt it give us We can find no scar But internal difference Where the meanings are
None may teach it anything ‘Tis the seal, despair- An imperial affliction Sent us of the air
When it comes, the landscape listens, Shadows hold their breath; When it goes, ‘tis like the distance On the look of death. |
冬日的午後, 總有一束陽光 如教堂的音響 沉重地壓在(心上)
沒有傷口的憂傷, 降自天堂 而(它)意義的不同 品自心上
是什麽,無人能講 這種(發自)內心的絕望 恰如那種憂傷 莊嚴從天而降
它來時,萬物傾聽 陰霾也緊閉喉嚨 它去時,(舉目)遠望 正如死神的麵龐 |