那天，我整日不乐。怎么不会呢?

书桌的两侧堆满了书，一大叠纸笺

摊在面前，词语在我的舌尖

消失

 知更鸟，早已在报春

 窗外，细雨将至

我们还指望什么？成功的欣喜不是

地图上举指可达的城市，也不会提前到来

更不是那些已完成的作品 ，而是篇

佳文正在构思的劳作中---它

也绝不可以用首区区小诗来

凑数

 原野，已是春雨如注

 庭中盛开着花朵，香馨袭人

无疑，你也会有这样闷郁的日子。可是

当你最后决定离开书房

啊，那是个多么奇妙的

时刻

 那天，我终于推开房门，朝向

 没有语言只有歌声的世界，拼  命  奔  跑……

(Dec.7th, 2007 in Saratoga Springs, NY)

Work, Sometimes  by Mary Oliver

I was sad all day, and why not. There I was, books piled

on both sides of the table, paper stacked up, words

falling of my tongue.

 The robins had been a long time singing, and now it

 was beginning to rain.

What are we sure of? Happiness isn't a town on a map,

or an early arrival, or a job well done, but good work

ongoing. Which is not likely to be the trifling around

with a poem.

 Then it began raining hard, and the flowers in the yard

 were full of lively fragrance.

You have had days like this, no doubt. And wasn't it

wonderful, finally, to leave the room? Ah what a

moment!

 As for myself, I swung the door open. And there was

 the wordless, singing would. And I ran for my life.

from Mary Oliver 《New and Selected Poems》Volume Two