When a light goes out, when its filament melts down,
hot steam crawls inside its glass cover.
It weeps with the faintest sound,
or completely silently.
I see it - smoking and sizzling;
I smell it - char, despair,
and fury.

What a funny light.
From unexpectedly flickering to quietly dying,
it seems to take only a fraction of a second.
It seems like the dead night just lets out a yawn -
the weakest breath extinguishes it,
extinguishes this light, once ablaze with fury.

From the very moment of going out,
the yellow warmth it once gave off is gone.

“Look, this light doesn’t even work!”

当一盏灯熄了 发烫的灯丝融了
玻璃罩内爬满了滚烫的水雾
它以微不可闻的声音 亦或许是
根本无声地 哭泣着
我看到它 冒出呲啦作响的烟了
我还闻到它 烧焦的味道 绝望的味道
和狂怒的味道

这盏灯真是奇怪
从毫无预兆地 闪烁 到悄无声息地 熄灭
似乎只花了一微秒
似乎只是深夜打了一个哈欠
漏出的丝丝气息 吹灭了它
吹灭了这盏 盛怒的灯

从它熄灭的这一刻起
它曾经散发出的黄色的暖光 便无人记得了

“瞧，这灯根本就不亮！”