星期五
伊丽莎白·詹宁斯
多年以前我们钉了那双手，
编织荆棘，扬起鞭子，因兴奋
而呼喊，我们站在铺石路
满是尘埃的道旁，观看那极致的疼。
但有一两人祷告，一两人
默然，震惊，退后，
记住余留的话，一个新前景，
十字架上高挂着哭喊的祭牲，乌云
遮住日头，我们得知一条新路
让我们丢弃所拥有而不自知的东西，
就在这阴冷、祭献的日子，
就在我们转离败坏的
过往，跪下，喊出我们的绝望时；
骰子还在滴溜溜转，声音渐消。
（翻译：大河原）
Friday
by Elizabeth Jennings
We nailed the hands long ago,
Wove the thorns, took up the scourge and shouted
For excitement's sake, we stood at the dusty edge
Of the pebbled path and watched the extreme of pain.
But one or two prayed, one or two
Were silent, shocked, stood back
And remembered remnants of words, a new vision,
The cross is up with its crying victim, the clouds
Cover the sun, we learn a new way to lose
What we did not know we had
Until this bleak and sacrificial day,
Until we turned from our bad
Past and knelt and cried out our dismay,
The dice still clicking, the voices dying away.
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