忏悔--查尔斯.波德莱尔

曾经，放纵的女士--只有一次
你把柔软光亮的手臂
放到我的手臂上（靠在我灵魂的阴面上
这个事情十分突出）；

好像刚被铸造出来，一轮金黄色的月亮
  夸耀地升起，
夜的壮丽，巴黎睡着了，
  像另一条塞纳河般川流不息，

沿着宅子前院，每扇门都走出
    留心的猫咪。
像友好的幽灵一般跟随着
   或当我们经过时呆住不动。

我们的亲密关系就在此时
    在苍白的光辉中开出花来，
那来自你--来自你的乐器
   声音非常丰富

习惯性地，欢欣鼓舞
   如黎明中小号嘹亮的声响--
出现了一种声音，一声叹息，一个悲伤的音符
    在你的嘴唇上嗫嚅

像一位满面病容的，丑陋的，五官扭曲的孩子，
     让家族蒙羞
在某个黑暗的隐蔽处
   长久地孤立于这个世界的关注之外

“满怀气恼！”呜咽着，你突然脱口而出，
   “世上没什么是确定无疑的，
我们人类的所有面具都不能掩饰
   我们人性的自私

美只是女人的生存之道，
   一出精心彩排过的日常--
领舞者的风范：
  以自发的微笑取悦；

不依赖情绪，
    他们衰退了--像美和爱，
直至遗忘收集
   好运气，重新再来！

那轮神奇的月亮从未在我的脑海中离去，
   那寂静，那疲劳，
在心灵的告解室中
   那严守的秘密绝望地低语
Once, indulgent lady—only once
  you lay your lustrous arm
on mine (against the darkness of my soul
  the incident stands out);

as if it bad just been coined, a golden moon
  rose ostentatiously,
and night’s magnificence, while Paris slept,
  streamed like another Seine,

Along the housefronts, out of every door
  appeared attentive cats.
following like companionable ghosts
  or frozen as we passed.

And even as our intimacy bloomed
  in that pale radiance,
there came from you—and from that instrument
  of yours, a voice so rich

habitually, exultant as a peal
  of trumpets in the dawn—
there came a sound, a sigh, a plaintive note
  that faltered on your lips

like a sickly, hideous, misproportioned child,
  the family disgrace
long secluded from the world’s regard
  in some dark hideaway.

“Nothing!” it sobbed, that sudden note of yours,
  “nothing on earth is sure,
and all our human masks cannot disguise
  our human selfishness;

Beauty is merely woman’s livelihood,
  a well-rehearsed routine—
the flagging dancer’s discipline: to please
  with automatic smiles;

hearts are not to be depended on,
  they fail—like beauty and love,
until Oblivion gathers up the lot
  for good, all over again!”

That magic moon has never left my mind,
  that silence, that fatigue,
and that dead secret whispered in despair
  at the heart’s confessional.