Version 2
It sifts from Leaden Sieves - (291)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.
It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, —
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.
It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil
On stump and stack and stem, —
The summer’s empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.
It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, —
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.
它从铅灰的筛子筛落
艾米莉·狄金森
它从铅灰的筛子筛落,
它粉妆整个森林,
它以洁白的羊绒填补
道路的皱纹。
它给大山和平原造出
一个匀称的脸庞——
额头连绵
从东方又至东方。
它来到篱笆上,
它包裹,一根根围栅,
直到篱笆消失在羊毛衣里;
它抛下一块水晶面纱
覆上残桩,柴垛,秸秆——
夏季的空房间,
许许多多空隙,曾为收获所在,
虽无登记,确是它们地盘。
它给桩子们的手腕起褶边,
仿若女王脚踝——
然后让它的工匠都如幽灵默然,
否认曾施展过大才。
(翻译:大河原)
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大牛,别默默的看了,快登录帮我点评一下吧!:)
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