一个记录,一种尝试。“We are the hollow men 我们是空心人We are the stuffed men 我们是填充着草的人Leaning together 倚靠在一起Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! 脑壳中装满了稻草。唉!Our dried voices,when 我们干巴的嗓音,当We whisper together 我们在一块儿飒飒低语Are quiet and meaningless 寂静,又毫无意义As wind in dry grass 好似干草地上的风Or rats' feet over broken glass 或我们干燥的地窖中In our dry cellar 耗子踩在碎玻璃上的步履Shape without form,shade without colour, 呈形却没有形式,呈影却没有颜色,Paralysed force,gesture without motion; 麻痹的力量,打着手势却毫无动作;Those who have crossed 那些穿越而过With