找不到你要的，只能找到几首诗，欣赏一下吧Saying SomethingThings assume your shape; discarded clothes, a damp shroudin the bathroom, vacant hands. This is not fiction. This isthe plain and warm material of love. My heart assumes it.We wake. Our private language starts the day. We makefamiliar movements through the hous...
After Anna Akhmatova by Carol Ann Duffy1. It isn't happiness I seek.My lover leaves to visit a lover.I put my tired child to sleeplike a good mother. I kneel in m...
