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By
Emily Dickinson.

The feet of people walking home
In gayer sandals go,
The Crocus, till she rises,
The Vassal of the Snow—
The lips at Hallelujah!
Long years of practice bore,
Till bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.

Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted from the Sea,
Pinions the Seraph’s wagon,
Pedestrians once, as we—
Night is the morning’s canvas,
Larceny, legacy,
Death but our rapt attention
To immortality.

My figures fail to tell me
How far the village lies,
Whose Peasants are the angels,
Whose Cantons dot the skies,
My Classics veil their faces,
My Faith that dark adores,
Which from its solemn Abbeys
Such resurrection pours!



人們走回家的步伐,
踩踏在歡愉的涼鞋上─
番紅花─直到她喚醒
冰雪所殖民的大地─
一張張讚美著神的口唇
經年累月地採行著無趣
直到渡船的船員們不久前
在岸邊唱著歌走去。

珍珠是潛水者的金洋
從大海的手裡所詐取
羽翼─撒拉弗的戰車
一度稀鬆平常─正如我你
黑夜是白晝的隱蔽─
盜竊─孑遺─
死亡,只是我們屏氣凝神的注意
對於永遠的活命

我的估算未能告訴我
村莊座落在多遠之處
是誰有天使們做他的佃戶─
是誰的領地遍布天幕─
我的經典掩蔽她們的面容─
我的信仰為黑暗所遵奉─
從它肅穆的寺院中
流淌出復活

 

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