by Pablo Neruda
I like for you to be still，it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away，and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away ，and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.
As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream, and you are like the word Melancholy.
I like for you to be still，and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you:
Let me come to be still in your silence.
And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp,simple as a ring.
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.
I like for you to be still, it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then,one smile,is enough.
And I am happy,happy that it's not true.
我喜欢你是寂静的，仿佛你消失了一样。
你从远处聆听我，我的声音却无法触及你。
好像你的双眼已经飞离远去，
如同一个吻，封缄了你的嘴。
如同所有的事物充满了我的灵魂，
你从所有的事物中浮现，充满了我的灵魂。
你像我的灵魂，一只追梦的蝴蝶，
你如同忧郁这个字一般。
我喜欢你是寂静的，似乎遥不可及。
你听起来像是在悲叹，一只如鸽般轻吟低鸣的蝴蝶。
你从远处听见我，我的声音无法企及你。
让我在你的沉默中安静无声。
让我带着你的沉默与你对话，
你的沉默明亮如灯，简单如指环。
你就像黑夜，拥有寂静与群星。
你的沉默就是星星的沉默，遥远而纯洁。
我喜欢你是寂静的，仿佛你消失了一样，
遥远而充满哀伤，仿佛你已死去。
彼时，一个字，一个微笑，已经足够。
而我会觉得幸福，因为那不真实而觉得幸福。
