我试着翻译了好几遍，都失败了，以下是原文：
The Apologist's Evening Prayer
by C.S. Lewis
From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the victories that I seemed to score;
From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divinity,
Thou, who wouldst give no sign, deliver me.
Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust, instead
of Thee, their thin-worn image of Thy head.
From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and needle’s eye,
Take from me all my trumpery lest I die.
Crawl Beneath Covers
by C.S. Lewis
When I am coldest and
deeply alone, I turn
off dead machinery
and come back home to bed.
I crawl beneath covers,
baptized again into
the smells and heat that I
alone know—royalty.
Renewal strikes against
the dross of soulless screens
like a coiled snake, and woos
by heat and darkness’ smile.
Your body is light and
heat and I return a
little boy happy to
be in safety’s embrace.
But your fire does not burn
out—or me. My own scars
find salve in your bright flames,
and my eyes, heavy, close.
This rest is a known rest:
your body, redeemed and
given in healing trust,
is daily seventh day.
