回答
我的回答小而贴切；
大问题削弱我的意志，但我仍然
用小回答抵抗恐惧。
我拒绝光，巨大的抽象；
我处理、抚摸并热爱着小事物。
我让星星们照看整个夜晚。
但是大回答叫嚣着要挤进我的生活。
它们厚颜无耻，
高喊着要被接受，被相信。
即便所有的小回答被确立，
以保护我的灵魂，我仍然听见
大回答妄想颠覆。
而伟大的结局正在降临。
（倪志娟 译）
Answers
I kept my answers small and kept them near;
Big questions bruised my mind but still I let
Small answers be a bullwark to my fear.
The huge abstractions I kept from the light;
Small things I handled and caressed and loved.
I let the stars assume the whole of night.
But the big answers clamoured to be moved Into my life.
Their great audacity
Shouted to be acknowledged and believed.
Even when all small answers build up to
Protection of my spirit, still I hear
Big answers striving for their overthrow.
And all the great conclusions coming near.
雨还在下
雨还在下——
如世人般哀怨，如伤亡般凄怆
如同一千四百颗钉子
散乱钉在十字架上。
雨还在下
那如心脏跳动的声音旋即变成
铁锤般的敲击声
在义冢间回荡，那不虔诚的脚步声
在墓地里回响：
雨还在下
鲜血流淌的战场孕育着微弱的希望
人类的大脑
培育者贪婪，蠕动着该隐的标记。
雨还在下
雨点打在十字架上饿殍的脚上。
耶稣，每天，每夜，都钉在那里，给我们宽恕——
不论是戴夫斯还是拉撒路
脓疮和黄金不分彼此。
雨还在下——
血依然从饥饿人的伤口流出：
他忍受着心中的一切创痛——那熄灭的光芒
那最后一束微弱的火光
摇曳在自我残杀的心灵里，
那悲哀的，不可理喻的发黑的伤口
那惨遭戏弄的大熊的伤口——
那失明的，哭泣着的大熊，主人的鞭子
抽打在它无助的肉体上......还有那被猎获的野兔。
雨还在下——
呵~我将纵身跃起：是谁把我拉下?
看耶稣的鲜血在天空流淌：
它从我们钉在树上的标记中流出
深深地流入奄奄待毙的士兵，流入干涸的心灵
那心中燃烧着整个世界的火花——因痛苦而污秽不堪
一如凯撒的桂冠。
接着响起一个声音，恰如人的心灵
曾经充满童心，却躺卧于兽群中
“我爱心依旧，纯真依旧，我的鲜血，为你而流。”
（刘守兰 译）
Still falls the Rain
（The Raids, 1940, Night and Dawn)
Still falls the Rain
Dark as the world of man, black as our loss---
Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails
Upon the Cross.
Still falls the Rain
With a sound like the pulse of the heart that is changed to the hammer-beat
In the Potter’s Field, and the sound of the impious feet
On the Tomb:
Still falls the Rain
In the Field of Blood where the small hopes breed and the human brain
Nurtures its greed, that worm with the brow of Cain.
Still falls the Rain
At the feet of the Starved Man hung upon the Cross.
Christ that each day, each night, nails there
have mercy on us---
On Dives and on Lazarus:
Under the rain the sore and the gold are as one.
Still falls the Rain---
Still falls the Blood from the Starved Man's wounded Side:
He bears in His Heart all wounds, --- those of the light that died,
The last faint spark
In the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad,
uncomprehending dark,
The wounds of the baited bear---
The blind and weeping bear whom the keepers beat
On his helpless flesh... the tears of the hunted hare.
Still falls the Rain---
Then O Ile leape up to my God: who pulles me doune---
See, see where Christ's blood streames in the firmament:
It flows from the Brow we nailed upon the tree
Deep to the dying, to the thirsting heart
That holds the fires of the world--- dark-smirched with pain
As Caesar's laurel crown.
Then sounds the voice of One who like the heart of man
Was once a child who among beasts has lain---
"Still do I love, still shed my innocent light, my Blood, for thee."
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