加拿大 玛格丽特·阿特伍德 Margaret Atwood  加拿大   (1939~?)
A Sad Child
A Visit
Backdropp Addresses Cowboy
Bored
Flying Inside Your Own Body
Habitation
Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing
In the Secular Night
Is/Not
More and More
Morning in the Burned House
Night Poem
Postcards
Provisions
Sekhmet, the Lion-headed Goddess of War
Siren Song
Spelling
The City Planners
The Landlady
The Moment
The Rest
The Shadow Voice
This is a Photograph of Me
睡之变奏 Variation On The Word Sleep
多首一页
外国诗歌 outland poetry
The Rest

玛格丽特·阿特伍德


  The rest of us watch from beyond the fence
  as the woman moves with her jagged stride
  into her pain as if into a slow race.
  We see her body in motion
  but hear no sounds, or we hear
  sounds but no language; or we know
  it is not a language we know
  yet. We can see her clearly
  but for her it is running in black smoke.
  The cluster of cells in her swelling
  like porridge boiling, and bursting,
  like grapes, we think. Or we think of
  explosions in mud; but we know nothing.
  All around us the trees
  and the grasses light up with forgiveness,
  so green and at this time
  of the year healthy.
  We would like to call something
  out to her. Some form of cheering.
  There is pain but no arrival at anything.

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