无数个夜晚，那月亮不是亚当
所见的月亮。在漫长的岁月里
守夜人已用久远的悲哀
将她填满。看她，她是你的明镜。
The moon—A Maria Kodama
There is such loneliness in that gold.
The moon of the nights is not the moon
The forefather Adam saw.
The long centuries
Of human vigil have filled her
With ancient lament.
Look at her，
She is your mirror.
By Jorges Luis Borges
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