November文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
Mary Oliver文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
The snow文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
began slowly,文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
a soft and easy文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
sprinkling文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
of flakes, then clouds of flakes文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
in the baskets of the wind文章源自英文巴士-https://www.en84.com/8315.html
and the branches
of the trees –
oh, so pretty.
We walked
through the growing stillness,
as the flakes
prickled the path,
then covered it,
then deepened
as in curds and drifts,
as the wind grew stronger,
shaping its work
less delicately,
taking greater steps
over the hills
and through the trees
until, finally,
we were cold,
and far from home.
We turned
and followed our long shadows back
to the house,
stamped our feet,
went inside, and shut the door.
Through the window
we could see
how far away it was to the gates of April.
Let the fire now
put on its red hat
and sing to us.
十一月
玛丽·奥利弗
雪
缓缓飘下，
最初是温柔的，
从容的，
稀疏的雪花，然后是大团大团的，
在风的篮子中，
在树的
枝条中——
哦，多么可爱。
我们走过
不断增长的寂静，
当雪花
刺痛道路，
然后覆盖它，
堆积，凝结，
变深，
当风变大，
更粗糙地
塑造它的作品，
迈着更大的步伐，
走过山岗，
穿过树林，
最后，
我们离家很远，
感到了冷，
我们转身，
跟随我们长长的影子
走回房子，
跺跺脚，
进去，关上门。
透过窗子，
我们能看见
四月的大门多么遥远。
让火在此时
戴上它的红帽，
对着我们歌唱。
（倪志娟 译）
