From Summer Rain by Yves Bonnefoy博纳富瓦

From Summer rain – Yves Bonnefoy博纳富瓦 A stone No more paths for us, nothing but unscythed grass No more ford to cross, nothing but mud. No more well-made bed, nothing but stones And shadows embracing through us. Still this night is bright, As we desired our death might be. It whitens the trees, they expand. Their foliage: sand, then foam. Even beyond time, day breaks. A stone A mysterious haste urged us on. We went in, we opened the shutters, we recognized the table, the hearth The bed; star was growing larger in the window, We heard the voice that wants us to love As summer’s crest Like dolphins playing in their sea without a shore. Let’s sleep, not knowing ourselves. Chest against chest, Our breathing mingled, holding hands without a dream.