我们生活在无数的歌者中
歌声嘹亮或柔和，甜美或刺耳，
有时沉默。但请聆听。
风雨欲来时有人
遮挡上了一只知更鸟的巢穴。
对着海滩上的一只黑狗吹出一声声口哨。
对她自己莞尔一笑，独自在厨房里阅读。
在一小片树林里，有人边挥动着斧头边咕哝。
这是树林发出的声音
风停止后，有些人
直视着下了夜班的
护士们的眼睛
问候那些殡葬承办人，当他们
拿着独特的乐器到达时。
一个男人刚和妻子争吵过。
现在他独自站在黑暗的门廊里，
看着雨。一个人在工作台边哼唱，
雕刻一只精美的鸟儿（昨夜
一通电话之后她发出一声解脱的叹息）。
每当他想象奥德修斯被帮到桅杆上
就发出一声叹息，一阵钟声响起
一个人抬头仰望
一位顾客进入他的商店。
一个人听见狐狸嗥叫出自己特有的歌声时、
感到震惊，一个人站在岩石上
只是聆听大海之声
We live in a world of singers
and the song is loud or soft, sweet
or shrill, sometimes silent. But listen.
With a storm approaching someone
shelters a robin’s nest.
Another whistles to a black dog on the beach.
One laughs to herself, reading alone in the kitchen.
In the woodlot someone grunts as he swings the ax.
There’s the sound trees make
after the wind stops and there are those
who look into the eyes of nurses
coming off the night shift,
those greeting the undertaker when he arrives
with his unique instruments.
A man has just argued with his wife.
Now he stands alone on the dark porch,
watching the rain. One hums at the workbench,
carving a delicate bird (last night she
groaned with relief after a phone call).
One sighs as he imagines Odysseus
tied to the mast, and one
looks up when a bell rings
and a customer enters his shop.
One is astonished hearing the fox
bark its own peculiar song and one
just stands on the rocks,
listening to the sea.
“A World of Singers” by Ralph Stevens from At Bunker Cove. © Moon Pie Press, 2017. Reprinted by permission.
