A dangling conversation
Paul Simon
It's a still life watercolor
Of a now-late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference, like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickinson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with book markers
That measure what we've lost
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm
Couplets out of rhyme
In syncopated time
And the dangled conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives
Yes, we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?”
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives
悬摆着的对话
一幅水彩静物
画着还不晚的下午
阳光透过窗帘的蕾丝
房里洒满阴影
我们坐下喝着咖啡
蜷缩在我们的淡漠里， 就像岸上的贝壳
你听到海洋的咆哮
在悬摆着的对话里
在肤浅的叹息里
我们生活的界限
你读着艾米莉迪金森
我读着罗伯特弗罗斯特
用书签标记读到的地方
那也测量着我们的失落
就像一首糟糕的诗
在切分的节奏里
我们是无律的诗节
是无韵的对句
被悬摆着的对话
和肤浅的叹息
是我们生活的界限
是的， 我们讲着需要关注的事
说着必须说出的话
“分析值得吗？”
“戏剧真地死了吗？”
而房间怎么就柔缓地褪去
而我只吻到你的影子， 触不到你的手
此刻陌生的你
失落在悬摆着的对话里
在肤浅的叹息里
在我们生活的界限里
