寒冷的斜坡立于黑暗中
树木的南面摸起来却是干燥的
沉重的翅膀爬进有羽毛的月光里
我来看这些
白色的植物苍老于夜
那最老的
最先走向灭绝
而我听见杜鹃被月光一直弄醒着
水涌出经过它自己的
手指,没有穷尽
今晚再一次
我找到一篇单纯的祈祷但它不是为了人类
The cold slope is standing in darkness
But the south of the trees is dry to the touch
The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers
I came to watch these
White plants older at night
The oldest
Come first to the ruins
And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon
The water flows through its
Own fingers without end
Tonight once more
I find a single prayer and it is not for men