I am getting too fast. I am getting nowhere. I am acting on the spur of impulse. I will be too easily overtaken by the sudden exhaustion when I pause for the rest. It’s dangerous. It’s the warning signal of my brainpower. Too much haste makes waste. Keep this in mind. Time is fleeting; the sickle of time is really mercilessly sharp to carve my smooth skin into wrinkles. But, take everything easy. Too much haste makes waste.
He fumbles at your Soul 他摸索你的灵魂
As Players at the Keys 就像琴师抚弄琴键
Before they drop full Music on -- 然后, 正式奏乐,
He stuns you by degrees -- 他逐步让你眩晕
Prepares your brittle Nature 让你脆弱的灵魂准备
For the Ethereal Blow 那天国般神圣的一击
By fainter Hammers -- further heard – 以隐约的敲叩, 由远而近—
Then nearer -- Then so slow 有时间, 舒一口气—
Your Breath has time to straighten -- 你的头脑, 泛起清凉的泡—
Your Brain -- to bubble Cool -- 再发出, 庄严的,一声, 霹雳—
Deals -- One -- imperial -- Thunderbolt – 把你赤裸的灵魂,剥掉
That scalps your naked Soul --
When Winds take Forests in the Paws – 当风的指掌抱握着森林--
The Universe -- is still -- 整个宇宙, 一片寂静—
This poem fascinates me. I vaguely guess it’s a poem that deals with the gnawing pain, the elusive and overpowering “dictator” who teases you bit by bit, who may at first tempt and flatter you with charming illusion, but when you are placed on the towering cloud, or when your soul is complete immersed in the glamour of pride, glory and security, this “assassinator” just sneers and mocks at this “victim” in the darkness, then he stabs you in the back without hesitation. So, what is it suggestive of? Perhaps the greatest comi-tragedy could be taken as the footnote. More often than not, when you are most comfortable with yourself, when you think everything is flowering and agreeable, you are most likely to be overwhelmed with the sudden grief and irretrievable loss. Who is He in this poem? The Creator? The Belief? Or the persona of happiness or bliss? Whatever the angle you choose, it wouldn’t fail to fumble at your soul like a ghost creeping on you. Un-noticeable but haunting! Anyway, I adore this poem so much. Caution: Reckless and momentary zeal is a foreshadowing of fiasco. Don’t step in this trap. Slow down! Slow down!