One day my mother took up a sledge hammer 

and pounded her kitchen stove into bits.

She served cold cuts to my father for lunch.

In that age, and in that place,

such a challenge to my father’s authority 

and right was mysterious, outrageous, even apocalyptic.

The demise of the stove, 

its piecemeal destruction,

poked at the heart of the country,

at the quality of life in the town.

 

And one day, without warning,

my mother took it apart,

and laughing beat the old stove to death.

And one day, without warning,

my mother took up a sledge hammer

and pounded her kitchen stove into bits.

 

有一天，我的母親拿起一把大錘

把廚房的爐子砸成碎片。

她為我父親準備的午餐是冷盤肉片。

在那個時代，在那個地方，

對我父親的權威提出這樣的挑戰

也挑戰他的公正，如此神秘、令人吃驚，甚至帶有天啟意味。

爐子壞了，

遭到破壞，砸成碎片，

戳中這個國家的中心，

鎮上的生活品質。

 

有一天，沒有任何警告，

我母親把它拆了，

笑著打壞舊爐子，成了一堆廢鐵。

有一天，沒有任何警告，

我的母親拿起一把大錘

把廚房的爐子砸成碎片。