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詹姆斯·赖特
任由那书掉在石头背面,舒心了些。 草丛里,我轻轻起身。 不愿打扰那一队蚂蚁 它们正在栅栏柱爬列成行, 搬运白色小花瓣儿, 投下的影子如此微弱,都能透视它们。 我闭目一会儿,倾听。 老蚱蜢 疲乏了,吃力蹦达, 它们的腿已不堪负累。 我想听到它们,发出的清澈鸣声。 之后,可爱,悠远地,一只黝黑蟋蟀开始歌唱 在枫树林里。
(微笑 译)
Depressed by a Book of Bad Poetry, I Walk Toward an Unused Pasture and Invite the Insects to Join Me by James Wright
Relieved, I let the book fall behind a stone. I climb a slight rise of grass. I do not want to disturb the ants Who are walking single file up the fence post, Carrying small white petals, Casting shadows so frail that I can see through them. I close my eyes for a moment and listen. The old grasshoppers Are tired, they leap heavily now, Their thighs are burdened. I want to hear them, they have clear sounds to make. Then lovely, far off, a dark cricket begins In the maple trees.
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