吟詩人：Sarah Kay & Phil Kaye；翻譯：Tony
我七年級的時候，
就知道愛長什麼樣子。
那時我還沒遇見愛，
但如果愛走進我的導師教室，
我一眼就會認出他。
愛戴著麻繩項鍊。
我也會一眼認出她，
愛綁著緊緊的法式辮子。
愛彈木吉他，
知道我最愛的披頭四的歌。
愛不怕跟我一起搭公車。
我知道，一定是我找錯了教室，
走錯了走廊，
她就在那裡，我很確定。
如果我能找到他就好了。
但當愛真的出現時，
她留著碗公頭。
他一整個星期都穿同一套衣服。
愛討厭公車。
愛對披頭四一無所知。
而且每次我想親愛，
我們的牙齒總是先撞在一起。
愛成了我對父母說謊的理由：
「我要去 Ben 家。」
愛在舞池裡節奏很糟，
但一定不會錯過慢歌。
愛守在電話旁，
因為她知道如果是她爸爸接起來，
只會聽到：「喂？喂？……我想他們掛了。」
然後愛長大了，
像彈簧床一樣被拉開。
愛改變了。
愛消失了。
慢慢地，像乳牙脫落，
帶走我以為不可或缺的部分。
愛像業餘魔術師一樣消失，
大家都看見地板的暗門，
只有我沒有。
像爆胎一樣，
我原本有想去的地方，
但計畫不重要了。
愛離開了好多年，
等愛再回來時，
我幾乎認不出他。
愛的氣味變了，
眼睛更深，背更寬。
多了我不認識的雀斑，
新的胎記，
更溫柔的聲音。
新的睡眠習慣，新的愛書。
愛有些歌，會讓他想起別人，
那些歌，愛不想聽。
我也是。
但我們找到了一張剛剛好的公園長椅。
找到會一起大笑的笑話。
現在，愛會替我烤剛出爐的巧克力豆餅乾。
但半夜的時候，
愛大概會把大多數吃掉。
愛穿內衣很好看，
但還是會戴著牙套。
愛開車很爛，
卻是很棒的導航。
愛知道自己要去哪，
只是常常比預計多花兩個小時。
愛現在比較亂，
不再那麼簡單。
愛會在我爸媽面前說「胸部」。
愛咀嚼很大聲。
愛刷牙後不蓋牙膏。
愛傳訊息會用一堆笑臉。
而且你知道嗎──
愛也是會拉屎的。
但愛也會哭。
愛會一次又一次真心地對你說：「你很美。」
剛醒來的時候，「你很美。」
哭過之後，「你很美。」
你不想聽的時候，「你很美。」
你不相信的時候，「你很美。」
沒有人告訴你的時候，「你很美。」
愛依然覺得你很美。
但愛並不完美，
有時候會忘記，
在你最需要聽見的時候——
你很美，請不要忘記這件事。
愛不是你一直期待的樣子，
也不是你能預測的存在。
也許愛在紐約已經睡著，
而你在加州、澳洲，徹夜未眠。
也許愛永遠在錯的時區。
也許愛還沒準備好。
也許你也是。
也許愛不是適合結婚的那種。
也許下一次見到愛，
是在離婚二十年後，
愛看起來更蒼老了，
但依然像你記憶中的那樣美好。
也許愛只停留一個月。
也許愛會持續見證每一場煙火、
每一場生日、
每一次醫院探訪。
也許愛會留下，
也許不會。
也許愛不該留下。
愛，總是在該來的時候到來，
也在必須離開的時候離開。
當愛來臨時，請說：「讓自己舒心如意。」
當愛離開時請它不要關上那扇門。
然後你關掉音樂，聆聽靜籟，
輕聲說：「謝謝你曾經來過。」
–
英文原始詩篇
When Love Arrives
by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye
I knew exactly what love looked like – in seventh grade
Even though I hadn’t met love yet,
if love had wandered into my homeroom,
I would’ve recognized him at first glance.
Love wore a hemp necklace.
I would’ve recognized her at first glance,
love wore a tight french braid.
Love played acoustic guitar and knew all my favorite Beatles songs.
Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me.
And I knew, I just must be searching the wrong classrooms,
just must be checking the wrong hallways,
she was there, I was sure of it.
If only I could find him.
But when love finally showed up, she had a bow cut.
He wore the same clothes every day for a week.
Love hated the bus.
Love didn’t know anything about The Beatles.
Instead, every time I try to kiss love,
our teeth got in the way.
Love became the reason I lied to my parents.
I’m going to- Ben’s house.
Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor,
but made sure we never missed a slow song.
Love waited by the phone because she knew if her father picked up it would be: “Hello? Hello? I guess they hung up.”
And love grew, stretched like a trampoline.
Love changed. Love disappeared,
Slowly, like baby teeth, losing parts of me I thought I needed.
Love vanished like an amateur magician, and everyone could see the trapdoor but me.
Like a flat tire, there were other places I planned on going,but my plans didn’t matter.
Love stayed away for years, and when love finally reappeared,
I barely recognized him.
Love smelt different now, had darker eyes, a broader back, love came with freckles I didn’t recognize.
New birthmarks, a softer voice.
Now there were new sleeping patterns, new favorite books.
Love had songs that reminded him of someone else, songs love didn’t like to listen to. So did I.
But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly
We found jokes that make us laugh.
And now, love makes me fresh homemade chocolate chip cookies.
But love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack.
Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer.
Love is a terrible driver, but a great navigator.
Love knows where she’s going, it just might take her two hours longer than she planned.
Love is messier now, not as simple.
Love uses the words “boobs” in front of my parents.
Love chews too loud.
Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste.
Love uses smiley faces in her text messages.
And turns out, love shits!
But love also cries.
And love will tell you you are beautiful and mean it, over and over again. “You are beautiful.”
When you first wake up, “you are beautiful.”
When you’ve just been crying, “you are beautiful.”
When you don’t want to hear it, “you are beautiful.”
When you don’t believe it, “you are beautiful.”
When nobody else will tell you, “you are beautiful.”
Love still thinks you are beautiful.
But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget, when you need to hear it most, you are beautiful, do not forget this.
Love is not who you were expecting,
love is not who you can predict.
Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep;
You are in California, Australia, wide awake.
Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone.
Maybe love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for love.
Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce, love is older now, but just as beautiful as you remembered.
Maybe love is only there for a month.
Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
Maybe love stays- maybe love can’t.
Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to,
And love leaves exactly when love must.
When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.”
If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her.
Turn off the music, listen to the quiet, whisper,
“Thank you for stopping by.”
—
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