Before Two Portraits of My Mother母亲的两幅肖像前

—Emile Nelligan (1879-1941) I love the beautiful young girl of this portrait,我深爱这名美丽少女的画像， my mother,

她是我的母亲， painted years ago

绘制于多年前 when her forehead was white, 当时她的前额白皙无瑕 and there was no shadow in the dazzling Venetian glass of her gaze.

如同威尼斯玻璃般闪亮，没有一丝阴影。 But this other likeness shows但另一幅肖像显出

the deep trenches across her forehead’s white marble.深深的纹痕布满她皎白大理石般平滑的前额 The rose poem of her youth that her marriage sang is far behind.她少女时的那首玫瑰情诗，曾在她婚礼中被咏唱，如今已经远去。 Here is my sadness:此时我心悲伤： I compare these portraits,比较这两幅肖像， one of a joy-radiant brow,一幅显得神情愉悦， the other care-heavy:另一幅显得心事重重： sunrise—and the thick coming on of night.一幅如同朝阳初升——另一幅则如迎面而来的阴郁黑夜。 And yet how strange my ways appear,然而我的反应却显得非比寻常， for when I look at these faded lips my heart smiles,因为当我看着她失去光泽的双唇，我心发出微笑， but at the smiling girl my tears start.但看着那名微笑的少女，我的泪竟开始涌出。