Jonathan, O Jonathan
Margaret Avison

                             The spokes¹ of sun
                        have pronged and spun²:
           a bowling³ barrow—paddle-wheel—or rein（缰绳，驾驭） 
                        held taut⁴（拉紧的，整洁的） . Careening
                             early this morning
shod hooves flaked⁵ the loose tiles. Sky opened. Horning
                        farness flooded through.
                        The high-swivelling（旋转） blue,
the wet-clay cumulus（堆积） , and the rough fleur-de-lys
                        fringing it, ensource
                        an unroofed universe,
lettuce-cool largeness. The wrenched⁶ miles swing and course,
                             rivers of speed.
                             The oven-bread
of earth smokes rainbows. Blind stars and swallows parade
                        the windy sky of streets
                             and cheering beats
   down faintly（微弱地，模糊地） , to leaves in sticks, insects in pleats
                             and pouches⁷（小袋） hidden
                        and micro-garden.
   At the kitchen-door of their forwardfold backslidden 
                   munching⁸（用力咀嚼） wishes, men,
                        shouting and toppling
smokestacks（烟囱） like Saturday children, suddenly crane
                        for the still make-wish.
                   Where the roofs slope and flash
are hearts pungent⁹（辛辣的，尖刻的） and herbal for the sungold wheels to crush.