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They both thought that a sudden feeling had united them

This certainty is beautiful, even more beautiful than uncertainty.

他們彼此都深信，

是瞬間迸發的熱情讓他們相遇。

這樣的確定是美麗的，

但變幻無常更為美麗。

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?

他們認為既然素不相識，

他們之間過去就不會有什么瓜葛。

也許在街道、樓梯和過道上，

他們可能早就曾擦身而過。

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.

我真想問問他們，

是否記得——也許在旋轉門里

他們曾碰在一起?

也許太擠了，說過“對不起”!

或者在電話筒里道聲“打錯了”。

不過我知道他們會回答：

不，不記得有過這樣的事情!

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;

他們非常驚異，

已經有相當長的一個時期，

他們遇到的盡是機遇。

他們還沒有完全準備好把自己的命運相互交換。

他們時聚時散，

命運常出現在他們的路上，

忍住了對他們的竊笑，

然后又跳開到路旁。

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;

確曾有過標志和記號，

盡管他們并不知曉。

也許是在三年以前，

或者是在上星期二，

有一片樹葉從這個人肩上落到另一個人的肩上?

或者是一件丟失而又拾回的東西?

說不定它是灌木叢中童年是玩過的一只皮球?

也許是門把手和鈴鐺，

他們早先曾經觸摸過它們。

也許他們的箱子曾在寄存處放在一起，

也許在同一個晚上，

他們曾做過同樣的夢，

驚醒之后便無影無蹤。

But every badging is only a continuation,

and the book of fate is always open in the middle.

然而每一個開端都有它的繼續，

而那本記事本永遠是半開半合。