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There’s a certain slant of light On winter afternoons That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
Heavenly hurt it give us We can find no scar But internal difference Where the meanings are
None may teach it anything ‘Tis the seal, despair- An imperial affliction Sent us of the air
When it comes, the landscape listens, Shadows hold their breath; When it goes, ‘tis like the distance On the look of death. |
冬日的午后， 总有一束阳光 如教堂的音响 沉重地压在（心上）
没有伤口的忧伤， 降自天堂 而内涵的不同 品自心中
是什么，无人能讲 这种（发自）内心的绝望 恰如那种忧伤 庄严从天而降
它来时，万物倾听 阴霾也紧闭喉咙 它去时，（举目）远望 正如死神的面庞 |
