9

WHEN I go alone at night to my love-tryst, birds do not sing, the wind does not stir, the houses on both sides of the street stand silent.

It is my own anklets that grow loud at every step and I am ashamed.

When I sit on my balcony and listen for his footsteps, leaves do not rustle on the trees, and the water is still in the river, like the sword on the knees of a sentry fallen asleep.

It is my own heart that beats wildly—I do not know how to quiet it.

When my love comes and sits by my side, when my body trembles and my eyelids droop, the night darkens, the wind blows out the lamp, and the clouds draw veils over the stars.

It is the jewel at my own breast that shines and gives light. I do not know how to hide it.

9

当我在夜里独赴幽会的时候，鸟儿不叫，

风儿不吹，街道两旁的房屋沉默地站立着。

是我自己的脚镯越走越响使我羞怯。

当我站在凉台上倾听他的足音，树叶不摇，

河水静止像熟睡的哨兵膝上的刀剑。

是我自己的心在狂跳——我不知道怎样使它宁静。

当我爱来了，坐在我身旁，

当我的身躯震颤，我的眼睫下垂，

夜更深了，风吹灯灭，云片在繁星上曳过轻纱。

是我自己胸前的珍宝放出光明。

我不知道怎样把它遮起。