The Day ——罗伯特 洛威尔

It’s amazing the day is still here like lightning on an open field, terra firma and transient swimming in variation, fresh as when man first broke like the crocus all over the earth. From a train, we saw cows strung out on a hill at differing heights, one sex, one herd, replicas in hierarchy— the sun had turned them noonday bright. They were child’s daubs in a book I read before I could read. They fly by like a train window: flash-in-the-pan moments of the Great Day, the dies illa, when we lived momently together forever in love with our nature— as if in the end, in the marriage with nothingness, we could ever escape being absolutely safe. 太神奇了 这日子依然在这里 就像旷野上的闪电， 陆地与候鸟 换着姿势游泳 新鲜一如人类初生 像遍布大地的番红花。 在火车上，我们看见奶牛 散布在一座小山的 不同高度， 一个性别，一个畜群， 层次分明的复制品—— 阳光让它们变得 正午般明亮。 它们是孩子在一本书里的涂鸦， 我在识字之前读过。 它们飞驰而过，如火车窗户： 伟大日子里 那些昙花一现的瞬间， 那一日 那时我们短暂生活 在一起，永远 爱着我们的本性—— 仿佛终结之时， 在与虚无的婚姻中， 我们可以永远逃离， 获得绝对的安全。