梦千寻他进了院子，缓缓向我走来。他的眼睛也绝对像是鹰的眼睛。这对我来说，似乎是个重大的时刻，因为他就站在那里，这个西班牙过往伟大诗人的继承者，我想到了华美的埃雷拉、怀旧和感人的路易斯修士、神秘主义者圣十字若望和艰涩难懂的路易斯·德·贡戈拉。他是这条悠长传统的最后一人，他踩着诗界先辈的足迹丝毫不用汗颜。莫名地在我心里，唱起了卡利斯托先生最有名的情诗，轻柔而动人。
我很不好意思。还好我之前准备了该如何跟他打招呼。
“大师，我这样一个外国人能和您结识真是万分荣幸。”
他犀利的眼神中突然有笑意摇曳了一下，严厉的嘴唇也有那么一瞬间被微笑弯成弧线。
“我不是诗人，先生，我是卖猪鬃刷子的。你弄错了，卡利斯托先生在隔壁。”
我找错了一幢房子。
He had reached the patio and came slowly towards me. He had really the eyes of an eagle. It seemed to me a tremendous moment, for there he stood, the heir of the great old Spanish poets, the magnificent Herrera, the nostalgic and moving Frau Luis, Juan de la Cruz, the mystic, and the crabbed and obscure Gongora. He was the last of that long line and he trod in their steps not unworthily. Strangely in my heart sang the lovely and tender song which is the most famous of Don Calisto’s lyrics.
I was abashed. It was fortunate for me that I had prepared beforehand the phrase with which I meant to greet him.
“It is a wonderful honour, Maestro, for a foreigner such as I to make the acquaintance of so great a poet.”
A flicker of amusement passed through those piercing eyes and a smile for an instant curved the lines of that stern mouth.
“I am not a poet, Senor, but a bristle merchant. You have made a mistake. Don Calisto lives next door.”
I had come to the wrong house.
——威廉·萨默塞特·毛姆W.S.Maugham
《诗人The Poet》
译者：陈以侃
广西师范大学出版社
