特德·休斯

I imagine this midnight moments forest：

Something else is alive

Besides the clocks loneliness

And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star：

Something more near

Though deeper within darkness

Is entering the loneliness：

Cold， delicately as the dark snow，

A foxs nose touches twig， leaf;

Two eyes serve a movement， that now

And again now， and now， and now

Sets neat prints into the snow

Between trees， and warily a lame

Shadow lags by stump and in hollow

Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings， an eye，

A widening deepening greenness，

Brilliantly， concentratedly，

Coming about its own business

Till， with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox

It enters the dark hole of the head.

The window is starless still; the clock ticks，

The page is printed.

我想象這午夜时分的森林：

还有别的什么在活动

除了孤独的钟表

和我以手指摩挲的空白纸页之外。

从窗口望去，我看不见星星：

某样逐渐靠近的东西

在黑暗的更深处

正进入这孤寂中：

清冷、优雅，似那黑暗中的雪

一只狐狸的鼻子触碰着嫩枝、树叶，

两只眼睛转动了，一下

又一下，又一下，又一下

将整齐的足迹印在林间的

雪地里，一个跛足的身影

小心翼翼地移动，倚着树桩，投进地洞里

它属于一个呼之欲出的身体

穿过林中空地，一只眼睛，

渐宽渐深的绿，

闪亮地，专注地，

兀自游荡

直至，带着一股骤然而至的浓烈狐臭

它进入脑中的暗洞里。

窗外依然没有星星;钟声嘀嗒，

纸页上写好了文字。