The Woman in Sunshine
It is only that this warmth and movement are like
The warmth and movement of a woman.

It is not that there is any image in the air
Nor the beginning nor end of a form:

It is empty. But a woman in threadless gold
Burns us with brushings of her dress

And a dissociated abundance of being,
More definite for what she is—

Because she is disembodied,
Bearing the odors of the summer fields,

Confessing the taciturn and yet indifferent,
Invisibly clear, the only love.

阳光中的女人
只是这温度和动作类似于
一个女人的温度与动作

并非是空气中有任何图像
或一形象的起始或结束：

是空白。一个女人于无线索的金色
灼烧我们，以其裙裾的轻拂

与存在分离的充足，
因她所是而更为确定—

因为她已无身体，
携着夏天田地的气味，

坦白着那沉默却也漠然，
不可见地明晰，独一的爱。