花园里响着音乐
难以言传的绝望。
一碟牡蛎摆在冰上
闻起来有海的味道，新鲜而刺鼻。
他对我说：“我是一位忠诚的朋友！”
轻轻摸着我的衣服
多么不一样的拥抱啊
那样两只手的触摸。
那就是一个人如何抚摩一只猫或者鸟
或者看着一位苗条的女骑手...
就在他淡金色的睫毛下
他安静的眼睛满含笑意。
小提琴抑郁的声音
唱得高过悬着的烟雾：
“赐福给天堂
你终将单独和你的爱人在一起。”
The garden rang with music
Of inexpressible despair.
A dish of oysters spread on ice
Smelled like the ocean, fresh and sharp.
He told me: "I'm a faithful friend!"-
And lightly touched my dress.
How different from embraces
The touch of those two hands.
That's how one strokes a cat or bird
Or looks at slender lady riders...
Just laughter in his quiet eyes,
Beneath his light gold lashes.
And the despondent voices of the violins
Sing out beyond the hanging smoke:
"Give blessings to heaven above
At last you're alone with your beloved."
March 1913
