Joseph

“罗瑟夫，” 他说： 在夕阳静止之前，我始终忘记不了你毛茸茸、湿漉漉的双眼。 你的爪子替我测量过池塘的深浅。我抬起鼻子就能嗅到你临近的荷尔蒙和泥土的味道。在那个初春，我们还没有分别，交织缠绕的水藻，身旁翱翔的天鹅，我们是夕阳下的两个剪影。我一直以为，我会在这样温暖潮湿的傍晚长大，直到冬天的寒冷锁住了蚊子的翅膀，人们的游船不再前进。沉默的运河——自从你离开······再也没有人推开公园的铁门。

"Joseph," he said.

"Before the sunset comes to a halt, I will never forget your fluffy and soggy eyes. Your paws measured the depth of the pond for me. I raised my nose and could smell the scent of your hormones and earth.

In that early spring, when we hadn't parted—with intertwining seaweed and swans soaring nearby—we were two silhouettes under the sunset.

I thought we'd be growing up forever in this warm and damp evening,

--Until winter locks the mosquitoes' wings, Until people's canoes come to a standstill, ---Until the canal stays silent and chill.

--Until you left,

The kissing gates never kiss again."