The Hawthorn Tree｜山楂树

The Hawthorn Tree — by Louise Glück

Side by side, not
hand in hand: I watch you
walking in the summer garden—things 
that can't move
learn to see; I do not need
to chase you through
the garden; human beings leave
signs of feeling
everywhere, flowers
scattered on the dirt path, all
white and gold, some
lifted a little by
the evening wind; I do not need
to follow where you are now,
deep in the poisonous field, to know 
the cause of your flight, human
passion or rage: for what else
would you let drop
all you have gathered?

山楂树

肩并肩，而非

手牵手：我注视着你们

正走在夏季的园中——

无法移动的事物

学着去看；我不需要

穿过这花园

追逐你；人类

处处留下了

感觉的标记，花

撒落在泥泞小径上，全部

白色和金黄，有些

被夜里的风

稍稍吹起；我不需要

跟随到你现在的地方，

深入有毒的田野，去了解

你逃离的原因，人类的

激情或愤怒：还能为别的什么

你会丢下

你已采集的一切？

（柳向阳 译）