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Now watch this autumn that arrives in smells
看這個秋天在氣味中到來
All looks like summer still
一切還像是夏天
Colours are quite unchanged
顏色完全沒改變
The air on green and white serenely thrives
空氣在綠色和白色上清澈地生長
Heavy the trees with growth and full the fields
樹蔭變得沉甸，田野豐滿
Flowers flourish everywhere
花兒處處開放
Proust who collected time within a child's cake would understand the ambiguity of this
普魯斯特曾將時間采集在孩子的蛋糕里，他會理解這一種曖昧
Summer still raging while a thin column of smoke stirs from the land
夏天仍氣勢洶洶，而一縷細煙正從大地上升起
Proving that autumn gropes for us
證明秋天正向我們摸尋
But every season is a kind of rich nostalgia
但每個季節都是一種濃郁的懷舊
We give names: autumn and summer, winter, spring
我們給它們命名：秋天和夏天，冬天，春天
As though to unfasten from the mind our moods and give them outward forms
仿佛為了從精神上松開我們的情緒，并賦予它們外在的形式
We want the certain, solid thing
我們想要確定、牢固的東西
But I am carried back against my will to a childhood where autumn is bonfires, marbles, smoke
但我被帶回童年，這并非我愿，在那里秋天是篝火，彈子球，煙霧
I lean against my window
我靠在我的窗邊
Fenced from evocations in the air
被空氣中的回憶圍困
When I said autumn, autumn broke
當我說著秋天，秋天碎了
