乌鸦害怕了
（泰德·休斯/作，张文武/译）
乌鸦感觉自己的脑子越来越迟钝，
他发现自己的每一根羽毛都是凶手的化石。
谁谋杀了这一切？
根植于他的神经和血液
直到他全然变成黑色的这些行尸走肉？
他怎样才能飞离他的羽毛？
它们为什么在他身上安家？
他是收录它们罪名的档案？
或者是它们可怕的意志，它们渴望的复仇？
或者是它们不能饶恕的囚徒？
他不能被饶恕。
他的牢狱就是土地。身披自己的罪名，
设法记起自己的罪恶
他沉重地飞着。
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Crow, feeling his brain
slip,
Finds his every feather the fossil of a murder.
Who murdered all these?
These living dead, that root in his nerves and his blood
Till he is visibly black?
How can he fly from his feathers?
And why have they homed on him?
Is he the archive of their accusations?
Or their ghostly purpose, their pining vengeance?
Or their unforgiven prisoner?
He cannot be forgiven.
His prison is the earth. Clothed in his conviction,
Trying to remember his crimes
Heavily he flies.
Ted Hughes
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