THE WORD LOVE。

  
<THIS WORD LOVE>
<爱这个字>
By Raymond Carver
     雷蒙德·卡佛
     
                
                
I will not go when she calls
Even if she says i love you,
Especially that,
Even though she swears
And promises nothing
But love love.
我不会被她的电话招去
哪怕她说我爱你
那就更不会去了
尽管她诅咒
发誓说除了爱
还是爱
The light in this room
Covers every
Thing equally;
My arm throws no shadow even,
It too is consumed with light.
房间里的灯光
均匀覆盖着
所有的一切
连我的手臂都甩不出影子
它也被光吞噬了
But this word love ——
This word grows dark, grows
Heavy and shake itself
And begins to eat
Through this paper.
Listen.
但爱这个字——
这个字在逐渐变暗，变得
沉重和摇摆不定
并开始侵蚀
这一页纸
你听