我当时蜇居某公寓，与一位梦想成为诗人的年轻人共居一室，临窗坐在简陋的躺椅上一边吸烟，一边看小说。不知有多少个日夜、多少个星期、多少个岁月从窗外流逝而过。

Days, weeks, months marched by outside the window while I sat in a cheap sling chair in my little room in the apartment I Shared with a young would-be poet, smoking cigarettes and reading novels.

youdao

我不知道艺术家及诗人们结成团体是否基于与沙丁鱼相同的理由。

I don't know that artists and poets join schools for quite the same reason that sardines do.

youdao

大概听了半个小时，我终于能把“死在威尼斯”与“诗人之死”区分开来了。

Probably listened to half an hour, I was finally able to "death in Venice" and "poet's death" to distinguish arrived.

youdao