詹姆斯·赖特

任由那书掉在石头背面，舒心了些。
草丛里，我轻轻起身。
不愿打扰那一队蚂蚁
它们正在栅栏柱爬列成行，
搬运白色小花瓣儿，
投下的影子如此微弱，都能透视它们。
我闭目一会儿，倾听。
老蚱蜢
疲乏了，吃力蹦达，
它们的腿已不堪负累。
我想听到它们，发出的清澈鸣声。
之后，可爱，悠远地，一只黝黑蟋蟀开始歌唱
在枫树林里。

（微笑 译）

 

Depressed by a Book of Bad Poetry, I Walk Toward an Unused
Pasture and Invite the Insects to Join Me
by James Wright

Relieved, I let the book fall behind a stone.
I climb a slight rise of grass.
I do not want to disturb the ants
Who are walking single file up the fence post,
Carrying small white petals,
Casting shadows so frail that I can see through them.
I close my eyes for a moment and listen.
The old grasshoppers
Are tired, they leap heavily now,
Their thighs are burdened.
I want to hear them, they have clear sounds to make.
Then lovely, far off, a dark cricket begins
In the maple trees.