grindingoinground

华莱士·史蒂文斯

它就在那，逐字逐句， 一首诗取代了一座山的位置。

他呼吸它的氧气， 即使当这书翻开在他桌面的灰尘中。

它令他想起他是如何需要 一个他自决方向的地方可以去，

他是如何重构松树， 移动岩石又挑选云端的道路，

为了一片恰如其分的景致， 在此他将是完整的，在一个 没有解释的完成中：

在精确的那块石头中他的不精确 将发现，最终，它们所逼近的景色，

他可以在那里躺下，并俯瞰海洋， 认出他唯一而孤独的家。

The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain

Wallace Stevens

There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen, Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed A place to go to in his own direction,

How he had recomposed the pines, Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,

For the outlook that would be right, Where he would be complete in an unexplained completion:

The exact rock where his inexactnesses Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged,

Where he could lie and, gazing down at the sea, Recognize his unique and solitary home.