Far above our amazed gazes
the juggler raises his bright life,
a weightlessness he offers up
indifferently;
freezeframed butcher knives,
flaming torches hover;
he lights a smoke and jokes
while 93 million miles away
the sun has paused to hover too,
blast its gases higher
so that all of us might clearly see
the carelessness of genius
posing easily past gravity,
the scars he teases back to sleep,
the face of grace washed clean with light,
the astonishing beauty of human beings.
(This poem was first published in Connecticut Review.)
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远在我们惊奇的视线之上
杂耍者举起他灿烂的生命，
毫不在乎地
他呈上轻如无物的重量；
定格的屠刀，
燃烧的火炬在空中摇曳；
他点燃一支烟，说着笑话
此时,九千三百万哩之外
太阳也停滞不前,徘徊着,
把它的气焰喷得更高
以便我们能清楚地看到
精灵在不经意之间
以一个姿势轻易超越了地心引力，
他哄睡了的伤痕，
他被光辉洗净的优雅的脸，
闪耀着令人惊异的人类之美。
（非马、绿音译）
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