Words

I had this thought a while ago,
‘My darling cannot understand
What I have done, or what would do
In this blind bitter land.’

And I grew weary of the sun
Until my thoughts cleared up again,
Remembering that the best I have done
Was done to make it plain;

That every year I have cried, ‘At length
My darling understands it all,
Because I have come into my strength,
And words obey my call’;

That had she done so who can say
What would have shaken from the sieve?
I might have thrown poor words away
And been content to live.

文字

不久前我曾经这样想：
“我爱人怕不能理解
这盲目苦难的土地上
我做过或要做什么。”

对太阳我渐生厌倦心
到思绪重新变清晰，
忆想起最优良的行径
是曾经诚实地坦白；

我每年都大喊：“到头来
我爱人会理解一切，
因为我已攒足了力气，
文字也听从我驱策”；

假如她理解了谁能说
筛子中会漏下什么？
我也许把破文字抛却，
心满意足地去生活。

傅浩　译