I Like For You To Be Still (Pablo Neruda, 1904－1973)
I like for you to be still; it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.
As all things are filled with my soul,
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you;
Let me come to be still in your silence.
And let me talk to you with your silence
You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.
I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.
（1）智利詩人聶魯達（Pablo Neruda, 1904－1973）,曾是1971年諾貝爾文學獎得主。這首詩選自詩人年輕時的作品《二十首情詩與絕望的歌Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair》。