|
The Grotto
Fanny Howe Let's make believe we're lying
together on our backs.
The lumps（肿块） in the floor are dirt and grass
and the blackbirds（画眉） tickle us with their claws
until we chirp and laugh. This is fearlessness. The sky wears no bells, no paper hats
but shawls crawl up the mountain rocks
piece by piece, and even under
night's weight
we still are not afraid. The shawls are dragging themselves across the slate
that soon will cover our feet.
Black lace, black wool on the reeks（臭气，烟） . I am now upstairs and you are down
in a white-washed cottage
packed in salt and wind.
The rooster's crow is not against the law. Pretend we stamp the sand onto the floor,
then sweep away the crumbs and ticks.
Seagulls dock on the windowsills
and we spread the moon on a tablecloth. You sip cold water from a silver glass.
I climb back upstairs with a hot water bag.
Tomorrow I get everything we need.
I mean today. I did. | 
