致艾米莉·迪金森

你渴望的如此之多—使追求显得徒劳—

要填饱你的饥饿神也做不到，

你勇敢地使劳作变得高贵，为探险祈愿

抵达最终的寂静之巅；

存在，在你仅有的求索中：听，艾米莉！

哦甜美的，死去的沉默者，最为清晰

当你那被永恒掠夺占有的歌唱

在每一个胸膛奏响；

--从来没有一朵花在你手里枯萎。

你获得的丰收和你的领会

超越于才智的结晶，爱的克制。

还有相隔最远心智的某种和解--

让奥玛斯的红宝石遗失，让俄斐变得严寒。

还有泪水凝固于冻土之山。

艾米莉·迪金森

To Emily Dickinson by Hart Crane

You who desired so much--in vain to ask--

Yet fed you hunger like an endless task,

Dared dignify the labor, bless the quest--

Achieved that stillness ultimately best,

Being, of all, least sought for: Emily, hear!

O sweet, dead Silencer, most suddenly clear

When singing that Eternity possessed

And plundered momently in every breast;

--Truly no flower yet withers in your hand.

The harvest you descried and understand

Needs more than wit to gather, love to bind.

Some reconcilement of remotest mind--

Leaves Ormus rubyless, and Ophir chill.

Else tears heap all within one clay-cold hill.

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