The Moon and the Yew Tree
月亮与紫杉树

This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.
这是思想之光，冷峻、飘忽不定。

The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
思想之树林呈黑色。光是蓝色。

The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God,
玻璃杯倾泻悲哀于我脚上，仿佛我是上帝，

Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility.
刺痛我的脚踝，低声述说它们的谦逊。

Fumy, spiritous mists inhabit this place
烟雾缭绕，这地方充满了精神的薄雾

Separated from my house by a row of headstones.
一排墓碑将我的房子隔开。

I simply cannot see where there is to get to.
我简直看不清我可达到何处。

The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right,
月亮并非是门。只是它自己的一张脸，

White as a knuckle and terribly upset.
苍白如指关节，极度地苦闷。

It drags the sea after it like a dark crime;it is quiet
它身后拖着大海仿佛黑色的罪恶；它安静

With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.
目瞪口呆地凝视，完全绝望。我居于此。

Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky——
星期天，钟声两次震惊天空——

Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection.
八条巨舌正在证实耶稣的复活。

At the end, they soberly bong out their names.
最终，它们庄严地敲响它们的名字。

The yew tree points up.It has a Gothic shape.
紫杉树挺拔向上。它呈哥特式形状。

The eyes lift after it and find the moon.
举目望着它，然后发现了月亮。

The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary.
月亮是我母亲。她不如玛丽温柔。

Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls.
她那些蓝衣释放出小蝙蝠和猫头鹰。

How I would like to believe in tenderness——
我多么希望信赖那种温柔——

The face of the effigy, gentled by candles,
雕像的脸，烛光使之温柔，

Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes.
温柔的眼，关切地，注视我。

I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering
我已跌倒很久了。云朵在星星

Blue and mystical over the face of the stars.
面前撒下了蓝色神秘之雾。

Inside the church, the saints will all be blue,
教堂里，圣人们将呈蓝色，

Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews,
他们纤细的脚飘荡在冰冷的长木椅上方，

Their hands and faces stiff with holiness.
他们的手和脸因圣神而变得僵硬。

The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild.
月亮对此视而不见。她枯燥、荒凉。

And the message of the yew tree is blackness—blackness and silence.
而紫杉树传递的消息是忧郁——忧郁和沉默。

(1961/10/22. pp.172—173. No. 153)
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