现在，等。
如果你不得不怀疑一切。
但相信时间。到现在为止
难道它们没有带你去任何地方吗？
私人事件将再一次变得很有趣。
头发会变得有趣。
痛苦会变得有趣
不合时宜的蓓蕾盛开会变得有趣。
旧手套将变得再次可爱；
它们的记忆就是赋予它们的东西
因为其他人的手需要。
热爱者的孤寂是同样的：那巨大的空虚
刻出这样的小东西正如要求
被填满的我们；新欢的需求
就是对旧爱忠诚。
等等，
不要走得太早
你累了。但每个人都是疲倦的。
但没有人是相当疲倦的。
只有等一会儿，聆听：
《发之乐》，
乐与痛，
逼近的音乐再次交织着我们所有的爱。
在那里听它，那将是《唯有时光》，
大部分人要听
能的整个存在的长笛，
悲伤地排练，曲调本身进入精疲力尽。
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become interesting.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again;
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don’t go too early.
You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a little and listen:
music of hair,
music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.
"Wait" by Galway Kinnell, from Selected Poems. © Houghton Mifflin, 1983. Reprinted with permission.
