原创／邹云
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,
The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distanced.
今夜我写下最悲伤的诗篇。
写出，比如说，
在这破碎的夜晚，碧蓝的繁星在远处打着寒颤。”
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
夜风在天空回旋、歌唱。
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her,
and sometimes she loved me too.
今夜我写下最悲伤的诗篇。
我爱过她，
有时，她也爱着我。
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
无数个这样的夜晚，我拥她入怀。
无际的苍穹下，我献上千万个吻。
She loved me,
and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
她爱过我，
有时，我也爱着她。
忍不住爱上她的眼波静静地流转。
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her.
To feel that I have lost her.
今夜我写下最悲伤的诗篇。
只要想到我已不再拥有她，
只要感到她已不再属于我。
To hear the immense night,
still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
只要听到夜的辽阔，
因为失去她而更辽阔无际。
诗句滑落灵魂，如同露珠跌向牧场。
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
我的爱留不住她，这又能怎样？
夜碎成一片一片，她已遥在天边。
This is all. In the distance someone is singing.
In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
就这样了。有人在远方歌唱。在远方。
我的灵魂却不甘于她的离开。
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
我的视线寻找她，仿佛要把她拉到眼前。
我的心寻找他，而她已经走远。
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
同样的夜晚，漂白了同样的树林。
今天的样子，不再像往日的我们。
I no longer love her,
that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
我已不再爱她，
无比确定，但我的爱曾经多么坚定。
我的声音挣扎着随风飘去，飘到她的耳旁。
Another's. She will be another's.
Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body.
Her infinite eyes.
别人的了。她将是别人的了。
像我献上过的千万个吻。
她的声音。她那明亮的身体。
她那深不见底的眼睛。
I no longer love her, that's certain,
but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
我已不再爱她，无比确定，
可也许我还爱着她。
爱情短暂，相忘好难。
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
因为，在很多这样的夜晚，我拥她入怀。
可我的灵魂不甘于她的离开。
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
她虽使我承受这最后的熬煎，
而我，将送她这最后的诗篇。
