我对你没有什么新要求，
未来，穷人的天堂。
我仍然穿着相同的衣服。
我仍在相同的光线下
提出相同的问题，
吃着相同的石头，
而时钟的手依然敲着，没有进入。
“Another Year Come” by W.S. Merwin
I have nothing new to ask of you,
Future, heaven of the poor.
I am still wearing the same things.
I am still begging the same question
By the same light,
Eating the same stone,
And the hands of the clock still knock without entering.
