破碎的花瓶

破碎的花瓶 作者：苏利 普洛多姆 翻译：慢兔 花儿正在枯萎，花瓶的 裂痕来自于她团扇的轻轻一挥 轻的如同微风拂过草从 没有任何声响。裂纹却开始生长 那细小的伤痕在睡梦中悄然扩张 慢慢钻进水晶深处，一丝，一缕 它带着细长的纹路蜿蜒前行 从平坦的底部，直到圆润的瓶口 水一滴一滴地渗出 从不可见的伤痕滴血 花儿流失了全部的水分 花瓶已碎：别碰 我们所爱之人那轻盈、光滑的手 只要像扇子一样轻轻一敲 我们就碎了，像那个碎裂的花瓶 无可挽回的裂开。并且无人知晓 世人看到的只是坚硬圆滑的表面 被她轻轻拂过的花瓶 正满怀哀伤地滴水、流血 别碰，那碎裂的花瓶 The broken Vase by Sully Prudhomme Translated by Robert Archambeau he vase where this verbena’s dying Was cracked by a lady’s fan’s soft blow. It must have been the merest grazing: We heard no sound. The fissure grew. The little wound spread while we slept, Pried deep in the crystal, bit by bit. A long, slow marching line, it crept From spreading base to curving lip. The water oozed out drop by drop, Bled from the line we’d not seen etched. The flowers drained out all their sap. The vase is broken: do not touch. The quick, sleek hand of one we love Can tap us with a fan’s soft blow, And we will break, as surely riven As that cracked vase. And no one knows. The world sees just the hard, curved surface Of a vase a lady’s fan once grazed, That slowly drips and bleeds with sadness. Do not touch the broken vase.