by Wislawa Szymborska
They both thought that a sudden feeling had united them
This certainty is beautiful, even more beautiful than uncertainty.
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?
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.
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;
There were sings, 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 badging is only a continuation,
and the book of fate is always open in the middle.
壹見鐘情
他們兩人都相信
是壹股突發的熱情讓他倆交會。
這樣的篤定是美麗的，
但變化無常更是美麗。
既然從未見過面，所以他們確定
彼此並無任何瓜葛。
但是聽聽自街道、樓梯、走廊傳出的話語——
他倆或許擦肩而過壹百萬次了吧？
我想問他們
是否記不得了——
在旋轉門
面對面那壹刻？
或者在人群中喃喃說出的「對不起」？
或者在聽筒截獲的唐突的「打錯了」？
然而我早知他們的答案。
是的，他們記不得了。
他們會感到詫異，倘若得知
緣分已玩弄他們
多年。
尚未完全做好
成為他們命運的準備，
緣分將他們推近，驅離，
憋住笑聲
阻擋他們的去路，
然後閃到壹邊。
有壹些跡象和信號存在，
即使他們尚無法解讀。
也許在三年前
或者就在上個星期二
有某片葉子飄舞於
肩與肩之間？
有東西掉了又撿了起來？
天曉得，也許是那個
消失於童年灌木叢中的球？
還有事前已被觸摸
層層覆蓋的
門把和門鈴。
檢查完畢後並排放置的手提箱。
有壹晚，也許同樣的夢，
到了早晨變得模糊。
每個開始
畢竟都只是續篇，
而充滿情節的書本
總是從壹半開始看起。