Someone was always leaving Scenic Route

and never coming back.

The wooden houses wait like old wives

along this road; they are everywhere,

abandoned, leaning, turning gray.

有人總是離開，

且不再回來。

一棟棟木屋像年老的妻子，

等候在這路邊；它們隨處可見，

被荒棄，傾斜，漸顯灰朽。

Someone always traded

the lonely beauty

of hemlock and stony lakeshore

for survival, packed up his life

and drove off to the city.

In the yards, the apple trees

keep hanging on, but the fruit

grows smaller year by year.

有人總是為了生計

放棄鐵杉和石砌的湖岸

那孤獨的美，

打點好人生的行李包

驅(qū)車前往城市。

院子里的蘋果樹

一直都有結(jié)果，只是果子

一年比一年小。

When we come this way again,

the trees will have gone wild,

the houses collapsed, not even worth

the human act of breaking in.

Fields will have taken over.

當(dāng)我們再次踏上這條路，

樹木早已瘋長，

房子坍塌了，甚至不值得

人們破門而入。

田野會取而代之。

What we will recognize

is the wind, the same fierce wind,

which has no history.

我們將認(rèn)出的

是風(fēng)，同樣狂野的風(fēng)，

它沒有過去。