English translation (AI-generated)

Three in the morning,
the hazy, blurred depth of night —
what kind of pain is this
that drags me from my dreams into exile in reality?

My belly rumbles and roars —
truly an abyss of suffering,
and through the abyss echo earth-shaking complaints.
To feel this, in the small hours, is truly “beyond words.”

Beside this bleak, cold bed,
the taste of medicine keeps bursting on my lips.
Sorrow through and through —
no good to stand, no good to sit, no good to lie down;
I can only privately reckon:
this is the retribution for not respecting science!

12 February 2023, in the small hours, London

凌晨三点
朦朦胧胧的深夜
是怎样的痛
把我从梦中拽回到现实里流亡

肚子隆隆作响，
那真是痛苦的深渊
深渊里回荡着震天动地的抱怨
能有这感觉，在凌晨真是“妙不可言”

在这凄冷的床边，
药的味道不时在嘴边爆裂
一身伤悲
站也不是，坐也不是，躺也不是
只好暗自揣度
这不尊重科学的报应！

2023年2月12日于伦敦 凌晨