They both thought that a sudden feeling
had united them.
This certainty is beautiful, even more
beautiful than uncertainly.
他们彼此都深信，
是瞬间迸发的热情让他们相遇。
这样的确定是美丽的，
但变幻无常更为美丽。
They thought they didn't know each other,
nothing had ever happened between them,
These streets, these stairs，this corridors,
Where they could have met so long ago?
他们认为既然素不相识，
他们之间过去就不会有什么瓜葛。
也许在街道、楼梯和过道上，
他们可能早就曾擦身而过。
I would like to ask them, if they can
remember--
perhaps in a revolving door face to face one day?
A "sorry" in the crowd?
"Wrong number" on the phone?
-but I know the answer.
No, they don 't remember.
我真想问问他们，
是否记得——也许在旋转门里
他们曾碰在一起?
也许太挤了，说过"对不起"!
或者在电话听筒里道声"打错了"。
不过我知道他们会回答:
不，不记得有过这样的事情!
How surprised they would be
For such a long time already
Fate has been playing with them.
Not quite yet ready to change into destiny,
which brings them nearer and yet further,
cutting their path
and stifling a laugh,
escaping ever further;
他们非常惊异，
已经有相当长的一个时期，
他们遇到的尽是机遇。
他们还没有完全准备好把自己的命运相互交换。
他们时聚时散，
命运常出现在他们的路上，
忍住了对他们的窃笑，
然后又跳开到路旁。
There were signs, indications,
undecipherable, what does in matter.
Three years ago, perhaps or even last Tuesday,
this leaf flying from one shoulder to another?
Something lost and gathered.
Who knows, perhaps a ball already
in the bushes, in childhood?
There were handles, door bells,
where, on the trace of a hand,
another hand was placed;
suitcases next to one another in the left luggage.
And maybe one night the same dream
forgotten on walking;
But every beginning is only a continuation,
and the book of fate is always open in the middle.
确曾有过标志和记号，
尽管他们并不知晓。
也许是在三年以前，
或者是在上星期二，
有一片树叶从这个人肩上落到另一个人的肩上?
或者是一件丢失而又拾回的东西?
说不定它是灌木丛中童年时玩过的一只皮球?
也许是门把手和铃铛，
他们孚先曾经触摸过它们。
也许他们的箱子曾在寄存处放在一起，
也许在同一个晚上，
他们曾做过同样的梦，
惊醒之后便无影无踪。
然而每一个开梢都有它的继续，
而那本命运的记事本永远是半开半合。
