文\聂鲁达
我们甚至失去了黄昏的颜色，
当蓝色的夜坠落在世界时，
没人看见我们手牵著手。
从我的窗户中我已经看见
在遥远山顶上落曰的祭典。
有时侯一片太阳
在我的双掌间如硬币燃烧。
在你熟知的我的哀伤中，
我忆及你，
灵魂肃敛。
彼时，
你在那里呢？
还有些什麽人？
说些什麽？
为什么当我哀伤且感到你远离时，
全部的爱会突然来临？
暮色中如常发生的，
书本掉落，
我的披肩如受伤的小狗蜷伏脚侧。
总是如此，
朝暮色抹去雕像的方向
你总籍黄昏隐没。
We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand.
While the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sunburned like a coin betweens my hands.
I remembered you with my soul clenched in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there? Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away?
The booke fell that ia always turned to at twilight and my cape rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always,always you recede through the evenings towards where the twilight goes erasing statues.
