If You Were Coming in the Fallby Emily Dickinson

艾米莉·狄金森(Emily Dickinson)在一八八六年与世长辞;而她深锁在盒子里的大量创作诗篇，则是她留给世人的最大厚礼。纵然在她有生之年，她的作品未能获得当时的青睐，然而周遭众人对她的不解与误会，却丝毫无法低损她丰富的创作天分。根据现存作品，艾米莉惊人的创作力为自己，也为世人留下一千八百首诗，包括了定本的一千七百七十五首与新近发现的二十五首。

If you were coming in the Fall,

I’d brush the summer by

With half a smile, and half a spurn,

As Housewives do, a Fly.

If I could see you in a year,

I’d wind the months in balls—

And put them each in separate Drawers,

For fear the numbers fuse—

If only Centuries, delayed,

I’d count them on my hand,

Subtracting, till my fingers dropped

Into Van Dieman’s Land.

If certain, When this life was out—

That your’s and mine, should be

I’d toss it yonder, like a Rind,

And take Eternity—

But, now, uncertain of the length

Of this, that is between,

It goads me, like the Goblin Bee—

That will not state-it’s sting.

如果你在秋天到来，

我将轻拂夏日而过

半带微笑，半带弃绝，

如家庭主妇把苍蝇扑捉。

如果能在一年之中将你盼来，

我将把月份缠绕成一个个纱球—

把它们分开，各自放进抽屉，

以免这些数字熔合，不在分开—

如果只是延至数个世纪，

我愿搬弄手指度日数数，

逐日递减，直到手指全部掉入

塔斯马尼亚岛屿的土地。

如果确定无疑，当今生度完—

它应属于你和我，

我愿把它，像果壳，扔向遥远，

去到来生把你赢得—

而目前，日期遥遥，

等待无期，天各一方，

像妖蜂，使我伤痛不已—

无法诉说—如刺如燎。