What can I hold you with? I offer you lean streets, desperate（不顾一切的） sunsets, the moon of the ragged（粗糙的） suburbs（市郊）. I offer you the bitterness（苦味） of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon. I offer you my ancestors（祖宗）, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honored（纪念） in marble, my father's father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets（枪弹） through his lungs（肺）, bearded and dead, wrapped（裹） by his soldiers in the hide of a cow, my mother's grandfather, just 24, heading a charge of 300 men in Peru（秘鲁（南美国家））, now ghosts on vanished（突然不见） horses.