介绍:
情人节
保罗卡罗尔
你雕塑作坊上面阁楼上
火柴盒一样的小屋
时时会变成魔法现场
在它墨蓝色的德鲁伊门后。昨夜，
在你身体里，亲爱的，
我感觉仿佛来自灵魂自身。
而一年前在“秋老虎”的星期天
我们的床变成开满紫蓟花的草地
而蜜汁藏在花朵的
底部
孩子们知道去哪里寻找
那无比甜蜜的吮吸。
有时在冬天，
小屋变成了一个康奈尔的盒子
里面装满了每天的奇迹——
吹肥皂泡的管子和金属网，木头兔子
以及杂志上已经变色的十二星座图。
或者变成一个北极冰屋，在这里无处可去
除了掘进到黄色的毯子和枕头下面
进入我们自己的
南太平洋。
然后是假期的那些
早晨，
就像春日微霖的羽毛般轻柔，同时
又如鹰喙般坚硬。你就是我要去的地方。
Valentine
BY PAUL CARROLL
Our matchbox bedroom in the loft above your
sculpture factory
Turns magical at times
Behind its dark blue Druid door. Last night,
Inside you, sweetheart,
It felt as if I were coming from the soul itself.
And that Indian Summer Sunday afternoon a year
ago
When the bed became a meadow
Of purple thistles, the honey hidden at the bottom
of the stem
Farm kids know to find
For the sweetest suck of all.
And sometimes in the winter when the room turns
into a Cornell box
Filled with the everyday miracles—
Soap bubble pipe and thimble, wooden rabbits
And old tan magazine illustrations of the Zodiac.
Or turns into an igloo in which the only place to
go
Is to burrow here below the yellow blanket and
the pillows
To the South Pacific
Of ourselves. And then those mornings on
vacation
Gentle as the feathers of a light spring rain, and
at the same time hard, like the beak
Of a hawk. You are where I belong.
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