张洁 译
有过一种时刻，
作为一个孩子，
当我穿上外套的时候
我想我的手
不会成功穿过去
到另一边，
或者会伸出来
钩子，或爪子，
变成畸形在经过
黑暗的袖子时。
这种疑惑教会我
对离去的时刻
心存敬畏;
我紧握我的袖口
投入通道，
知道我可能是
不同的在另一个
末端。
如果我长大后不再有
我对变形的
敬畏，
我想我也会长大到不再拥有
它的恩典，收缩
进我身体的侧边
一只残疾的手臂，
一种生命无法伸及，
无法抓牢。
PUTTING MY COAT ON
by Ted Kooser
There was a moment,
as a child,
when I put on my coat
and thought my hand
would not come through
on the other side,
or would come out
a hook, or claw,
deformed in transit
through the dark sleeve.
That doubt has taught me
awe for moments
of going out;
I clutch my cuff
and plunge through passage,
knowing I may be
different at the other
end.
If I outgrew
my fear of
metamorphosis,
I think I'd outgrow
its grace, shrink
into my side
an invalid arm,
a life with no reach,
and no grasp.
