这种超然像脱去衣服。
姿势，表情，声音
现在好似被抛弃的衣服
习惯性作出反应，防守，
灰色的流言残渣
落到我们身上。
这么多的工作，这样的代价
脱掉它们。它们仍有重量。
这片云落下来
空白看起来下降
不同的声音
轻轻地
落下
现在有一座宝库。
我们如何倒空夜晚
这些苦寒的灰烬
才能够安睡呢？
This detachment is like undressing.
Gestures, looks, voices now appear
as cast-off clothes.
The habitual replies, defenses,
remains of gray gossip,
fall over us.
And so much work, such a cost
to take them off. Still they have weight.
This cloud has fallen,
slack smiles fall
blank looks fall
indifferent voices
without weight
fall.
Now there is a storehouse.
How can we empty the night
of these bitter ashes
and be able to sleep?
