中文】 看这个秋天在气味中 到来。一切还像是夏天； 颜色完全没改变，空气 在绿色和白色上清澈地生长。 树荫变得沉甸，田野 丰满。花儿处处开放。 普鲁斯特曾将时间采集在 孩子的蛋糕里，他会理解 这一种暧昧——夏天仍气势汹汹，而一缕细烟 正从大地上升起， 证明秋天正向我们摸寻。 但每个季节都是一种 浓郁的怀旧。我们给它们命名——秋天和夏天，冬天，春天——仿佛为了从精神上松开 我们的情绪，并赋予它们外在的形式。 我们想要确定、牢固的东西。 但我被带回童年，这并非 我愿，在那里 秋天是篝火，弹子球，烟雾； 我靠在我的窗边， 被空气中的回忆围困。 当我说着秋天，秋天碎了。 【原文】 Song at the Beginning of Autumn--A poem by Elizabeth Jennings Now watch this autumn that arrives In smells. All looks like summer still; Colours are quite unchanged, the air On green and white serenely thrives. Heavy the trees with growth and full The fields. Flowers flourish everywhere.

Proust who collected time within A child‘s cake would understand The ambiguity of this Summer still raging while a thin Column of smoke stirs from the land Proving that autumn gropes for us.

But every season is a kind Of rich nostalgia. We give names Autumn and summer, winter, spring As though to unfasten from the mind Our moods and give them outward forms. We want the certain, solid thing. But I am carried back against My will to a childhood where Autumn is bonfires, marbles, smoke; I lean against my window fenced From evocations in the air. When I said autumn, autumn broke.