3. I Remember By the first of August the invisible beetles began to snore and the grass was as tough as hemp and was no color - no more than the sand was a color and we had worn our bare feet bare since the twentieth of June and there were times we forgot to wind up your alarm clock and some nights we took our gin warm and neat from old jelly glasses while the sun blew out of sight like a red picture hat and one day I tied my hair back with a ribbon and you said that I looked almost like a puritan lady and what I remember best is that the door to your room was the door to mine.
八月秋初
甲虫打鼾
草硬如麻
无色如沙
我们赤脚
六月二十
钟未上弦
夜有杜松
阳光蔽目
画如红布
我挽发带
宛如教徒
想入你房
门为我开
4. Her kind 她的仁慈
I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.
我已离去。一个着魔的巫婆难忘的黑色空气。
夜晚的勇猛：梦着的邪恶。
我已做了我的钩子在平原的房子上。
光照亮光：孤独之事，
十指有二，疯狂
女人不像女人，完全地，
我对她仁慈过 I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the dis aligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.
在森林里我找到了暖穴
用煮锅，雕刻，架子，色所，
丝绸和无数的东西
充填他们
为他们安排蠕虫和侏儒的晚餐：抱怨，rearranging the dis aligned
女人不可思议
我对她仁慈过 I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
我在你的车上受虐，车夫
环绕我裸露的颈项，村庄滑过
追问最后一条明亮的路，
幸存者，你的欲火咬伤了我的大腿
我的肋骨在你旋转的轮子下碎裂 A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.
女人是那样无愧于死
我对她仁慈过
5. With mercy for the Greedy 善对欲壑
Concerning your letter in which you ask me to call a priest and in which you ask me to wear The Cross that you enclose; your own cross, your dog-bitten cross, no larger than a thumb, small and wooden, no thorns, this rose -
想到那封信，你让我去叫牧师
让我呈受你封尘的十字架：
你拥有的十字架
你狗蚀的十字架
比拇指还小木质的，没刺，这玫瑰 I pray to its shadow, that gray place where it lies on your letter...deep, deep. I detest my sins and I try to believe in The Cross. I touch its tender hips, its dark jawed face, its solid neck, its brown sleep
我祈祷他的阴蔽
暗处躺着你的来函，。。。。。。
深深深
我厌恶我的罪，
我试着相信在十字上。
我触动它温柔的屁股，
黑颚上的脸
它结实的脖子，
它褐色的睡姿 True. There is a beautiful Jesus. He is frozen to his bones like a chunk of beef. How desperately he wanted to pull his arms in! How desperately I touch his vertical and horizontal axes! But I can't. Need is not quite belief.
真的。这有美丽的耶稣
他冰冻了他的尸骨，像一块大牛排
多么失望
他想抻出他的手
多么失望
我接触到他垂直的地平线轴！
而我不能。
无需完全的信仰。 All morning long I have worn your cross, hung with package string around my throat. It tapped me lightly as a child's heart might, tapping secondhand, softly waiting to be born. Ruth, I cherish the letter you wrote.
漫长的早晨
我忍受你的十字架，像在脖子上挂着赘物
像孩子的心跳
我发出轻音间接的声响，
温柔地等待出生
罗斯，我喜欢你写的信
6.音乐向我回游 Music swims back to me Wait Mister. Which way is home? They turned the light out and the dark is moving in the corner. There are no sign posts in this room, four ladies, over eighty, in diapers every one of them. La la la, Oh music swims back to me and I can feel the tune they played the night they left me in this private institution on a hill.
盼着先生。家里习惯如何？
他们匆匆转回黑夜
正在角落移动
屋里的柱子无记号
四个女士，超过八十岁
在她们每一块尿垫上
拉拉拉，音乐向我回游
在小山上的私人所在
他们留给我夜晚 Imagine it. A radio playing and everyone here was crazy. I liked it and danced in a circle. Music pours over the sense and in a funny way music sees more than I. I mean it remembers better; remembers the first night here. It was the strangled cold of November; even the stars were strapped in the sky and that moon too bright forking through the bars to stick me with a singing in the head. I have forgotten all the rest.
设想它。一台收音机作声
这里人人疯狂像它一样，
我在圆中跳舞
音乐倾注这感觉方式可笑
音乐比我丰满
想它记得更全
记得这初夜
甚至星星
也在天上被绑住
月亮太亮
用脑袋里的歌声
和分叉的棍子把我粘住
我已经睡意皆无 They lock me in this chair at eight a.m. and there are no signs to tell the way, just the radio beating to itself and the song that remembers more than I. Oh, la la la, this music swims back to me. The night I came I danced a circle and was not afraid Mister?
晚八点，他们把我锁在椅子上
这里没有讲话的方式
收音机只好作践自身
这歌子记得比我多
我进入夜
我在圈子里跳舞
不担心先生吗？
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(c) 2010 Maya Chilam Foundation