Poems
Slender Offering
微薄献礼
February 23, 2026
Everything has its dwindling.
Everything was dwindling.
万物皆有凋零时。 万物皆在凋零中。
The old elegance of my heart became as small
As a coffin carved for a scarab which lived
我心中那份古老的优雅，如今已缩得极小，小如为一只圣甲虫雕刻的棺椁。
Three thousand years ago and died of sun
And scalpel, supernatural, but musical.
三千年前死于阳光与手术刀，超自然，却带着音乐的韵律。
Half a life ago, when there were blizzards,
We would steal milk from the chimera’s young.
半生之前，当暴风雪肆虐时，我们曾从喀迈拉幼崽的嘴边偷取乳汁。
Such small unnatural selections as we are.
我们不过是些微不足道的非自然选择。
The love of me—impossible as a boat made of the orchids
Of Numidia which you keep cased in a bottle
爱我——这不可能，就像一艘用努米底亚兰花制成的小船，而你把它封存在瓶子里。
Blown in the shape
Of certain kindnesses.
被吹塑成 某种温柔的形态。
Things rust. No evidence of birds; no evidence of flight.
I am glad I will not be here when the world is warm.
万物皆在锈蚀。不见飞鸟的踪迹，亦无翱翔的痕迹。当世界回暖之时，我庆幸自己已不在此处。
—Lucie Brock-Broido (1956-2018)
露西·布罗克-布罗伊多（1956-2018）