I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone:
I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way.
本来，在今夜噩梦般的无眠辰光里，我给你写了一封言辞优美的信，但现在全想不起来了：
我就是想你，像一个凡人一样单纯地、绝望地想你。
You, with all your undumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn't even feel it.
妙笔生花的你，绝不会写出这样粗浅的句子；或许你连这种感觉都没有。
And yet I believe you'll be sensible of a little gap. But you'd clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it should lose a little of its reality.
但我还是相信你能感觉到一点点不同。只不过你会把它裹在精美的辞藻里，以至于丢失了稍许
真实感。
Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal.
So this letter is really just a squeal of pain.
而我呢，就直白得多了：我想你，远超乎我的想象，我早已
做好准备，要疯狂思念你。
所以这封信其实是我痛苦的尖叫。
It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. But oh my dear,
I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that.
Too truly.
我没有想到，你竟会变得对我如此重要和珍贵。我猜你早已习惯别人对你说这些话。但是，哦亲爱的，
我没法耍小聪明，装作冷淡疏远的样子：因为我爱你太深太真，根本做不到。
You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don't love. I have brought it to a fine art.
你不会知道，
对于那些我不爱的人，
我可以表现得多冷淡。我简直已经把它修炼成了一门艺术。
But you have broken down my defenses. And I don't really resent it.
但你却摧毁了我的一切防备，而我竟一点也不讨厌。
