It's a still life water color, 这是一个静物水彩，

Of a now late afternoon, 一个现在傍晚，

As the sun shines through the curtained lace 当阳光穿过窗帘的花边

And shadows wash the room. 和阴影洗了房间。

And we sit and drink our coffee 我们坐下来，喝我们的咖啡

Couched in our indifference, 横卧在我们的冷漠，

Like shells upon the shore 像岸上弹

You can hear the ocean roar 你可以听到大海的咆哮

In the dangling conversation 在晃来晃去谈话

And the superficial sighs, 和肤浅的感叹，

The borders of our lives. 我们生活的边界。

   

And you read your Emily Dickinson, 而且你读你的艾米莉·狄金森，

And I my Robert Frost, 我和我的罗伯特·弗罗斯特，

And we note our place with bookmarkers 我们注意到我们与bookmarkers地方

That measure what we've lost. 这一措施是什么，我们已经失去了。

Like a poem poorly written 像写得不好的一首诗

We are verses out of rhythm, 我们是诗句了节奏，

Couplets out of rhyme, 楹联出韵，

In syncopated time 在切分音时间

And the dangled conversation 而垂下的对话

And the superficial sighs, 和肤浅的感叹，

Are the borders of our lives. 是我们生活的边界。

   

Yes, we speak of things that matter, 是的，我们讲的东西说事，

With words that must be said, 有话必须说，

"Can analysis be worthwhile?" “可以分析是值得的？ ”

"Is the theater really dead?" “是戏剧真的死了吗？ ”

And how the room is softly faded 如何在房间轻声褪色

And I only kiss your shadow, 我只亲吻你的影子，

I cannot feel your hand, 我感觉不到你的手，

You're a stranger now unto me 你是一个陌生人，现在对我

Lost in the dangling conversation. 迷失在晃来晃去谈话。

And the superficial sighs, 和肤浅的感叹，

In the borders of our lives. 在我们生活的边界。