A mote it is to trouble the mind＇s eye.

—Hamlet.

They wandered out of gloom

Into some golden shaft

Of late-afternoon light，

Those tiny filaments

That filled me with delight，

Lifted by an updraft

Or viewless influence

There in the living room.

They might be minuscule

Angels， it seemed to me，

Needing no wings to rise

Or slide back out of sight

But floating effortlessly

Through our interior skies，

Each incandescent mite

A pilot at flight school.

Their rises， their declines，

Resembled Jacob＇s dream

And seemed an allegory

Enacted just for me

那是擾亂我們心靈之眼的一點(diǎn)微塵#65377;

——哈姆雷特

他們漫步走出陰影幽暗的世界，

步入一縷黃昏的金光，

是那些細(xì)小的絲絲縷縷

賦予我無(wú)盡的歡樂(lè)

卻有一股，

看不見(jiàn)的力量支撐著他們

就在臥室里#65377;

他們也許是極小的天使

在我看來(lái)即是如此，

他們無(wú)需用翅膀起飛#65380;

滑落#65380;離開(kāi)視線(xiàn)，

卻毫不費(fèi)力地游走于空中#65377;

每一個(gè)閃亮的小東西

都是飛行學(xué)校里的飛行員

他們飛升#65380;滑落，

如同雅各的夢(mèng)境，

又像是一場(chǎng)劇，

僅僅為我而上演#65377;