Pale winter sun bounces off gilded stucco and cracked walls, and rows of mirrors reflect the shattered bodies of the haughty sculptures that once held up the columns in Palazzo Reale’s Hall of Caryatids.
苍白的冬日阳光，在镀着金的灰泥和斑驳的墙壁上泛着亮，成排的镜子映照着那些高傲雕塑的残破躯体，在米兰王宫（Palazzo Reale）的女神厅，这些雕塑曾经支撑着宫殿的廊柱。
In Napoleon’s time, the classical Sala delle Cariatidi was Europe’s largest, most elaborate ballroom, dripping chandeliers. In 1943, British bombs devastated it. Left open to the elements for years afterwards, the Hall was never fully restored, and has survived as a mix of ruin and grandeur: an emblem of suffering, resilience and memory.
在拿破仑时代，这座风格古典的女神像柱大厅（Sala delle Cariatidi）曾是欧洲最大、最为华丽的舞厅，水晶吊灯琳琅满目。1943年，英国的轰炸将这里摧毁。此后多年，建筑就这样暴露在风雨里，从未被完全修复，以废墟与恢宏交织的样貌留存至今：成为了苦难、韧性与记忆的象征。
When I push through the throng around the Duomo — Milan is awash with visitors for the Winter Olympics — and cross the square to enter this fascinating, silent, elegiac room, I am welcomed by 80-year-old Anselm Kiefer.
此时的米兰正因举办冬奥会而游客如织，我挤过大教堂周边熙熙攘攘的人群，穿过广场，步入这个迷人、静谧又哀伤的空间，迎接我的是80岁高龄的安塞姆•基弗（Anselm Kiefer）。