强答一波！！！为什么大家提到了英文诗两首的时候都只提到了我用什么留住你！！这两首根本就不能拆开的好吗！！！！
请仔细阅读英文原版！第一首为我要你，第二首为我给你！
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黎明在空寂的街角找到我，我比黑夜更长久。
夜是盛情的海浪，它那深蓝的、头重脚轻的波浪述说着深土的层层颜色、承载着不真实和渴望。
夜总是偷偷的恩赐和拒绝，给予你有所保留的事物，给予你一个黑暗半球的欣欣向荣。这是夜的习惯，我告诉你。
夜的碎波留下了无关紧要的日常琐碎：一两个泛泛之交、梦中的音乐和苦涩灰烬的烟雾。我饥渴的心百无一用。
这汹涌的浪带来了你。
言语、言语、你的笑声和你那如此慵懒的令人如痴如醉的美丽。我们促膝而谈、直到你开始忘记了你的词语。
绝望的黎明走进了我的城市，来到了我所在的孤寂的街道。
你转过身的侧影、组成你名字的旋律、你爽朗的笑声：你残留的美丽我仍意犹未尽。
我将你的一切交给黎明，我失去了它们；我向走失的荒狗讲述、我向晨曦时零散的星星讲述。
你那隐蔽而丰富的一生 ...
我要设法得到你：撇开那些你留给我的迷人的表象，我要你所隐藏的容貌，你真实的笑颜容- 那冰冷的、嘲弄的笑容，只有你的镜子知道。
TWO ENGLISH POEMS
Por Jorge Luis Borges (1934)
I.
The useless dawn finds me in a deserted streetcorner; I have outlived the night.
Nights are proud waves: darkblue top heavy waves laden with all hues of deep spoil, laden with things unlikely and desirable.
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals, of things half given away, half withheld, of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act that way, I tell you.
The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds and odd ends: some hated friends to chat with, music for dreams, and the smoking of bitter ashes. The things my hungry heart has no use for.
The big wave brought you.
Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you have forgotten the words.
The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street of my city.
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to make your name, the lilt of your laughter: these are the illustrious toys you have left me.
I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and to the few stray stars of the dawn
Your dark rich life…
I must get at you, somehow: I put away those illustrious toys you have left me, I want your hidden look, your real smile –that
lonely, mocking smile your mirror knows.
我用什么才能留住你
我给你瘦落的街道、绝望的落日、荒郊的月亮。
我给你一个长久地望着孤月的人的悲哀。
我给你我已死去的祖辈，后人们用大理石祭奠的先魂：我父亲的父亲，阵亡于布宜诺斯艾利斯的边境，两颗子弹射穿了他的胸膛，死的时候蓄着胡子，尸体被士兵们用牛皮裹起；我母亲的祖父——那年才二十四岁——在秘鲁率领三百人冲锋，如今都成了消失的马背上的亡魂。
我给你我的书中所能蕴含的一切悟力，以及我生活中所能有的男子气概和幽默。
我给你一个从未有过信仰的人的忠诚。
我给你我设法保全的我自己的核心——不营字造句，不和梦交易，不被时间、欢乐和逆境触动的核心。
我给你早在你出生前多年的一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆。
我给你关于你生命的诠释，关于你自己的理论，你的真实而惊人的存在。
我给你我的寂寞、我的黑暗、我心的饥渴；我试图用困惑、危险、失败来打动你。
TWO ENGLISH POEMS
Por Jorge Luis Borges (1934)
II.
What can I hold you with?
I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the ragged suburbs.
I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon.
I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghost that living men have honored in marble: my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother’s grandfather –just twenty four- heading a charge of three hundred men in Perú, now ghosts on vanished horses.
I offer you whatever insight my books may hold, whatever manliness humour my life.
I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal.
I offer her that kernel of myself that I have saved, somehow – the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities.
I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born.
I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself.
I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.
