调查一下，有多少人喜欢用铅笔在书上记笔记？
Always my hands hesitate
To tarnish the tidiness of a poem,
On a white white page shining,
With marks, notes and underlines:
Pen, ball-pen, fountain pen,
In ink blue and black,
Darken the yet sooty body
Of Blake’s chimney sweeper;
Marker and highlighter,
Yellow, green and happy pink,
Paint the sad tearful face
Of Tennyson’s idle weeper.
Disturbing the sleeping soul
Behind the curtain of words,
Your forgiveness I seek
For a learner’s graffiti
In her Norton Anthology.
So I dare only pick up a pencil,
With a blunt tip, modest and humble,
To leave my faint grey track
Between lines and in the margin.
One day, if one day
The marks are blurred by years and erased by time,
I, forgetting old fears and rereading the rhyme,
Will have a quiet talk with your peaceful soul,
On the yellowish page, we might be reconciled.
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