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傍晚
你十二岁。顶多十三岁。 你正从后门走出这所房子。 时间还不晚。你答应过 不去太久，也不走太远。 有一天你会晓得这些树的名字。 你走上山脚下左边的岔路， 沿两条小溪间那条马道。 这里是沃尔峡谷。这里是罗伊德悬崖。 山峰仍然有太阳照着。但已是 傍晚。傍晚赶在你前面上了山坡。 暮色自你脊椎的关节往上移动它的手指。 你突然转过身。回到家 你的孩子在床上熟睡，那床已经有些小了。 你的妻子在灯光下缝补衣物。 你难过起来。你以为 时间还早，怎么就这么晚了？ Evening ----By Simon Armitage You’re twelve. Thirteen at most. You’re leaving the house by the back door. There is still time. You’ve promised not to be long, not to go far. One day you’ll learn the names of the trees. You fork left under the ridge, pick up the bridleway between two streams. Here is Wool Clough. Here is Royd Edge. The peak still lit by sun. but evening. Evening overtakes you up the slope. Dusk walks its fingers up the knuckles of your spine. Turn on your heel. Back home your child sleeps in her bed, too big for a cot. Your wife makes and mends under the light. You’re sorry. You thought It was early. How did it get so late? |
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