雙語詩歌:一見鐘情

　　They're both convinced

　　that a sudden passion joined them.

　　Such certainty is beautiful,

　　but uncertainty is more beautiful still.

　　他們彼此都深信，

　　是瞬間迸發(fā)的激情使他們相遇。

　　這種確定是美麗的,

　　然而變幻無常卻更為美麗。

　　Since they'd never met before, they're sure

　　that there'd been nothing between them.

　　But what's the word from the street staircase hallways—

　　perhaps they've passed by each other a million times?

　　因?yàn)樗麄兿惹八匚粗\面,他們確信，

　　他們之間毫無關(guān)聯(lián)。

　　然而從那街上、樓梯間、過道上傳來的細(xì)語來判斷——

　　或許他們曾無數(shù)次擦肩而過?

　　I want to ask them

　　if they don't remember—

　　a moment face to face

　　in some revolving door?

　　perhaps a "sorry" muttered in a crowd?

　　a curt "wrong number" caught in the receiver?—

　　but I know the answer.

　　No, they don't remember.

　　我想問他們，

　　難道不記得兩人——

　　曾在某扇旋轉(zhuǎn)門中,

　　面對面相視的那一瞬間?

　　也許曾在人群中和對方咕噥了一句“對不起”?

　　曾拿起話筒和對方短促地說了句“打錯(cuò)了”?——

　　但我知道答案。

　　是的,他們不記得。

　　They'd be amazed to hear

　　that Chance has been toying with them

　　now for years.

　　他們定會(huì)感到詫異,

　　得知緣分原來已戲弄他們，

　　多年。

　　Not quite ready yet

　　to become their Destiny,

　　it pushed them close, drove them apart,

　　it barred their path,

　　stifling a laugh,

　　and then leaped aside.

　　時(shí)機(jī)尚未成熟，

　　宿命尚未來臨,

　　命運(yùn)一會(huì)兒把他們拉近,一會(huì)兒把他們分開,

　　阻擋他們的去路,

　　按捺著笑聲,

　　然后跳到一旁。

　　There were signs and signal

　　even if they couldn't read them yet.

　　Perhaps three years ago

　　or just last Tuesday

　　a certain leaf fluttered

　　from one shoulder to another?

　　Something was dropped and then picked up.

　　Who know maybe the ball that vanished

　　into childhood's thicket?

　　曾經(jīng)有過征兆和暗示,

　　縱使他們還無法讀懂。

　　也許在三年前,

　　或者就是上個(gè)星期二,

　　某片樹葉從他們一個(gè)人的肩上，

　　飄舞到另一個(gè)人的肩上?

　　某個(gè)東西掉下來又被拾起。

　　天曉得,也許是那只消失在，

　　童年那灌木叢里的球?

　　There were doorknobs and doorbells

　　where one touch had covered another

　　beforehand.

　　Suitcases checked and standing side by side.

　　One night, perhap the same dream,

　　grown hazy by morning.

　　他們曾先后觸摸過，

　　一些門把手和門鈴,

　　后來的手印覆蓋了先前的手印。

　　行李箱寄存后被放在一起。

　　在某個(gè)夜里,也許,兩人做著相同的夢,

　　早上,夢又變模糊了。

　　Every beginning

　　is only a sequel, after all,

　　and the book of events

　　is always open halfway through.

　　每個(gè)開始，

　　終究不過是一個(gè)續(xù)篇,

　　而充滿情節(jié)的那本書，

　　總是被人從中間看起。