何时我已明了我必须携带它 以备不时之需，例如，将它放在口袋， 黑暗还不够黑，但可以 添加，如果必要，一捧一捧添加，直到 我的母亲整夜坐在一个房间 不开灯，吸着烟，最后消失了。 她去向何处，我也将前往。 早晨，别无他物，只有一块毛毯和她全部的 缺席，和欢乐氛围中的感受。 那么多孤独，一种纯粹的存在 和空虚，你不是，亦永不会是谁， 我的母亲就像另一个生命中的另一个我，消失在 我将前往之所，夜晚此时仿佛够黑 我可独自一人如同以前从未如此。 At Night By Stanley Plumly When did I know that I’d have to carry it around in order to have it when I need it, say in a pocket, the dark itself not dark enough but needing to be added to, handful by handful if necessary, until the way my mother would sit all night in a room without the lights, smoking, until she disappeared? Where would she go, because I would go there. In the morning, nothing but a blanket and all her absence and the feeling in the air of happiness. And so much loneliness, a kind of purity of being and emptiness, no one you are or could ever be, my mother like another me in another life, gone where I will go, night now likely dark enough I can be alone as I’ve never been alone before.