作品原文
There are no stars tonightBut those of memory.
Yet how much room for memory there is
In the loose girdle of soft rain.
There is even room enough
For the letters of my mother’s mother,
Elizabeth,
That have been pressed so long
Into a corner of the roof
That they are brown and soft,
And liable to melt as snow.
Over the greatness of such space
Steps must be gentle.
It is all hung by an invisible white hair.
It trembles as birch limbs webbing the air.
And I ask myself:
“Are your fingers long enough to play
Old keys that are but echoes:
Is the silence strong enough
To carry back the music to its source
And back to you again
As though to her?”
Yet I would lead my grandmother by the hand
Through much of what she would not understand;
And so I stumble. And the rain continues on the roof
With such a sound of gently pitying laughter.
作品譯文
今晚沒有星星只有記憶中的星星。
而在柔軟雨水的鬆弛束腰裡
有多少間屋子留給了記憶。
甚至還有足夠的屋子
留給我的祖母伊莉莎白
的情書，
它們很久以來一直被
壓在屋頂的角落裡
它們褐黃、鬆軟，
快要象雪一樣融化。
踏上此處的偉大
腳步一定要溫柔。
它們全都被一根看不見的白髮懸掛著。
它們顫抖著象樺樹枝在網羅空氣。
我問自己：
“你的手指有沒有足夠的長度
去彈奏僅僅是回音的琴鍵：
沉默有沒有強大到
可以把音樂送回它的源頭
再次交還給你
就象給她？”
而我情願拉著我祖母的手
穿過這許多她搞不懂的東西；
因此我絆倒了。雨繼續在屋頂上
帶著一種輕柔的憐憫的笑。
