两条腿的要么重很多
要么不重
一头大象，一只毛驴，甚至一台烹调炉--
那些腿，一个人能靠它们站立。
两条腿倾身向前时。
两条腿疲累。
它们寻找另外两条腿陪，
迈出一条去给音乐定调
而让另外一条向后移动。
它们想刻进一棵树干：
两个一起，四个永远。
两条腿的不是会吠叫，
就是会发嘶嘶声或噗噗声。
今晚，虽然，一切都不一样了。
今晚我想要轮子。
Nothing on two legs weighs much,
or can.
An elephant, a donkey, even a cookstove—
those legs, a person could stand on.
Two legs pitch you forward.
Two legs tire.
They look for another two legs to be with,
to move one set forward to music
while letting the other move back.
They want to carve into a tree trunk:
2gether 4ever.
Nothing on two legs can bark,
can whinny or chuff.
Tonight, though, everything’s different.
Tonight I want wheels.
"This Morning, I Wanted Four Legs" by Jane Hirshfield, from The Beauty. © Knopf, 2015. Reprinted with permission.
