我捉住的

第一條魚，

不願安靜地

躺在提桶中，

而是拼命拍打著，大口喘氣，

顯得

驚慌失措，

在緩慢傾瀉的

彩虹中，

它死了。後來

我剖開它的身體，將肉

和骨頭分開，

吃掉了它。現在，海

在我身體裡：我是魚，魚

在我裡面閃閃發光；我們

正在上升，緊緊纏繞著，將要

掉回海中。擺脫痛苦，

和痛苦，和更多的痛苦，

我們喂養這個狂熱的陰謀，我們被這個秘密

所滋養。

（倪志娟 譯）

The Fish by Mary Oliver

The first fish

I ever caught

would not lie down

quiet in the pail

but flailed and sucked

at the burning

amazement of the air

and died

in the slow pouring off

of rainbows. Later

I opened his body and separated

the flesh from the bones

and ate him. Now the sea

is in me: I am the fish, the fish

glitters in me; we are

risen, tangled together, certain to fall

back to the sea. Out of pain,

and pain, and more pain

we feed this feverish plot, we are nourished

by the mystery.