A piece of storm Mark Strand
For Sharon Horvath
From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,
A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room
And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up
From your book, saw it the moment it landed. That's all
There was to it. No more than a solemn waking
To brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly,
A time between times, a flowerless funeral. No more than that
Except for the feeling that this piece of the storm,
Which turned into nothing before your eyes, would come back,
That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:
"It's time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening."
輕盈的暴風雪
——給莎朗．賀維芙
作者：馬克．斯特蘭德／譯：影屋
從佈滿圓頂的城市裡圓頂的陰影下
一片雪花，來自某人的暴風雪，輕若無物，走進你的房間
找著一條路到達你椅子的扶手。當你
從書本中抬眼，你看到雪花降落的那一刻。這就是所有
在它身上發生的事。僅僅是莊嚴的醒悟
對於短暫，對於注意力起伏，瞬間的
片刻中的片刻，一場無花的葬禮。僅僅是那樣
除了有時會感到，那輕盈的暴風雪
那會在你眼前化為烏有的，會回來。
多年以後，某人像你現在一樣坐著，可能會說：
「是時候了。空氣準備好了。天空有一個開口。」