冬日之詩
詩：羅伯特·勃萊
冬螞蟻顫抖的翅膀
等待嶙峋冬季的結束
我以緩慢、笨拙的方式愛你，
幾近無言，僅此只言片語
是什麼讓我們各自隱匿活著？
一個傷口，一陣風，一種詞語，一位家長
有時我們無助地等待，
窘迫地，既不完整也不愈合。
當我們藏起傷口，我們從人
退回到身披甲殼的生命。
現在我們觸摸到螞蟻堅硬的胸部，
它的甲殼，它的沈默的舌頭。
這一定是螞蟻的方式，
冬日的螞蟻，是受過傷
並想繼續活下去的人的方式：
呼吸，感受他人，並且等待。
（莫笑愚 譯）
[xyz-ihs snippet=”In-article-ads”]Winter Poem
By Robert Bly
The quivering wings of the winter ants
wait for lean winter to end
I love you in slow, dim-witted ways,
hardly speaking, one or two words only.
What caused us each to live hidden?
A wound, the wind, a word, a parent.
Sometimes we wait in a helpless way,
awkwardly, not whole and not healed.
When we hid the wound, we fell back
from a human to a shelled life.
Now we feel the ant’s hard chest,
the carapace, the silent tongue.
This must be the way of the ant,
the winter ant, the way of those
who are wounded and want to live:
to breathe, to sense another, and to wait.
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