我最后一次见到潘妮是五月的一个夜晚,在罗马郊外阿尔巴诺丘陵上一座名为弗拉斯卡蒂的古老小镇上。她穿过人群,从闲庭漫步的年轻男女中向我走来。没有修剪过的红发散落在肩上,那随意的样子曾令我爱慕。秀丽的发丝闪闪发亮,仿佛只有她曾被夕阳爱抚过。“从哪里来的这么多人?”我问道,就好像我们只是分开了一两个钟头。“从罗马来的,”她说,“为了逃开那儿糟糕的空气。”她的声音和我一样:平静而冷淡,好像对我们而言,在文艺复兴时期的广场 The last time I saw Penny was one night in May on an ancient town called Frascati on the hills of Albano on the outskirts of Rome. She walked through the crowd and came to me from among the young men and women who wandered in the streets. No trimmed red hair scattered on the shoulders, that casual look has made me love. Shiny hair shiny, as if only she had been caressed by the sunset. “Where are so many people?” I asked, as if we were only separated for an hour or two. “From Rome,” she said, “in order to escape the bad air.” "Her voice is the same as mine: calm and cold, as if for us, in the Renaissance square