Ornithology in a World of Flux

By Robert Penn Warren

It was only a bird call at evening, unidentified,
As I came from the spring with water, across the rocky back-pasture;
But so still I stood sky above was not stiller than sky in pail-water.

Years pass, all places and faces fade, some people have died,
And I stand in a far land, the evening still, and am at last sure
That I miss more that stillness at bird-call than some things
that were to fail later.

变幻尘世中的鸟鸣
罗伯特·佩恩·沃伦

那只是入夜时分的鸟鸣， 无法辨认的鸟,
我从泉边汲水归来， 穿过起伏不平的偏僻草场;
我驻足凝神， 水桶里的天空比头顶的天空更沉寂.

多年以后， 所有的地方和面孔都变得淡漠, 一些人已经死去.
而我身在他乡， 夜色依旧， 我终于确信
比起终将衰败的事物， 我更怀念那鸟鸣中的沉寂