这是加州的冬天，外面就像花店的内部:一大片冰凉而潮湿的粉红色山茶花排列在小路上;宴会或新娘用的玫瑰是多么稀有啊，多得好像过份了!一排蜗牛穿过高尔夫球绿色的草坪，从玫瑰丛到常春藤床;一种砷化合物被分配给它们。园丁会把贝壳耙起来，在院子的一个角落里留下一小堆像骷髅一样的空贝壳。到了中午，太阳把雾烧尽，世界上无边无际的天空为未来的时代翻开了新的一页;现在喷气式飞机会画直线、抛物线和x，在它们画完之前，风会把它们慢慢地抹去，或者把它们拉得模糊不清。葡萄谷的冬天到了。被钉在木桩上的葡萄园使人联想到战争墓地，但果实已被榨干，棚子里的红木大桶溢满了水，墙边立着一罐车的葡萄酒，十亿葡萄为它流出鲜亮的汁液。滑雪者从雪线开车回家，穿过杏仁果园，橄榄农场。 Fig tree and palm tree - everything that warms The imagination of the wintertime. If the walls were older one would think of Rome: If the land were stonier one would think of Spain. But this land grows the oldest living things, Trees that were young when Pharoahs ruled the world, Trees whose new leaves are only just unfurled. Beautiful they are not; they oppress the heart With gigantism and with immortal wings; And yet one feels the sumptuousness of this dirt. It is raining in California, a straight rain Cleaning the heavy oranges on the bough, Filling the gardens till the gardens flow, Shining the olives, tiling the gleaming tile, Waxing the dark camellia leaves more green, Flooding the daylong valleys like the Nile.