Somewhere I havenever travelled
by E. E. Cummings
Somewhere I have never travelled,
gladly beyondany experience，
your eyes havetheir silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look will easily unclose me
though I have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens（touching skilfully，
mysteriously）her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,
I andmy life will shut very beautifully ,
suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere
descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equalsthe power of your
intense fragility：
whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
（I do not know what it is about you that closesand opens;
only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than
all roses）
nobody,
not even therain,
has such small hands.
我未曾旅行过的地方
我未曾旅行过的地方
欣然超越了所有的经历
如你眼中的沉静：
你用最柔弱的姿态
缠绕着我
使我不能触及
只因它靠的太近
你微微一瞥便轻易打开了我
即便我像手指般蜷起
你如昔般一瓣一瓣把我舒展
就像春天娴熟而又神秘的张开它第一朵玫瑰
若你希望我闭合
我和我的生命将唯美地骤然凋零
如同想象着四散飘落的雪花般的花心
在我所感知的世界里
没有什么比得过你炽烈的脆弱：
本能地迫使我跟随他们色彩的国度
在每一次呼吸间感受死亡与永恒
我不知是什么让你开合
只有内心深处明白
你眼眸的声音深邃过所有玫瑰
没有人
甚至是雨滴
拥有这样小巧的手掌
