Love at First Sight

sweetspot

Love at First Sight
4 O2 U; @: ]/ u0 V; cby Wislawa Szymborska
4 g* |# C! _: s4 z. {

$ u7 U3 m) g2 Y6 dThey both thought
" L0 w  N4 h$ X1 c% w, Othat a sudden feeling had united them
This certainty is beautiful,
Even more beautiful than uncertainty.
, k  [) l6 c# G& u' ]6 |
$ m0 }# }. }( M1 NThey thought they didn't know each other,
nothing had ever happened between them,
These streets, these stairs, this corridors,
Where they could have met so long ago?

" V  |* r2 D" n" ]I would like to ask them,
/ N! P+ T1 S7 p' c% F# mif they can remember -
perhaps in a revolving door
face to face one day?
A "sorry" in the crowd?
( X& ~; @" V* I0 f8 B- d0 b+ j"Wrong number" on the 'phone?
- but I know the answer.
No, they don't remember.

How surprised they would be
For such a long time already
Fate has been playing with them.

, M7 `& j2 a- L/ l2 ^# uNot quite yet ready
/ c1 L. ^8 W* jto change into destiny,
, S7 W  O- H* U% j& M: C( N: D6 }which brings them nearer and yet further,
cutting their path
and stifling a laugh,
escaping ever further;
; h+ s3 u& {* F2 m$ n0 ?There were sings, indications,
7 q, a  e: K6 u! lundecipherable, what does in matter.
Three years ago, perhaps
9 ?- N) I0 M$ m/ E' eor even last Tuesday,
: f$ X0 B- V! wthis leaf flying
from one shoulder to another?
% _; `& T* N: U: \8 ?Something lost and gathered.
Who knows, perhaps a ball already
in the bushes, in childhood?

There were handles, door bells,
where, on the trace of a hand,
another hand was placed;
suitcases next to one another in the
left luggage.
And maybe one night the same dream
forgotten on walking;
$ Z5 \" a, ~4 \* @+ i
But every beginning
is only a continuation
and the book of fate is
! C8 U/ K6 V* Z0 u0 n  l* {always open in the middle.
* h6 s: \9 S& m& u% p: b' `7 K3 PTranslation from Polish by Roman Gren
) B9 `0 u1 l# J" \2 u1 l$ e- }Translation from French by Sarah Hardenberg

晓晓晓晓

向左走向右走里面有用这首诗的一节哎~!