too young to died 我愛老人帽

81愛的鼓勵 0訂閱站台

In the Great Square

After days of Spring rains we awakened
in a shabby parlor jammed with beat-up furniture
and no place left for the waking to really live,
between ourselves and the piles of old bedding.

There scattered in the eye were the travels of generations.
One poked in the stuff for what one loved.
Memories evaporated; the walls sweat them out again.
The antique tile dragons were cracked badly.

Surrounded by the piles of used-up words and junk
that made us, we’d make our own windows and doors.
In the grandest of plazas we’d set up fluttering tents,
our hearts as many and wavering as the avenue headlights.

We’d begun again housecleaning, sorting importances,
but we’d lost the roof and our parlor’d been ransacked.
We’d searched for new lines to lay out and measure ourselves
picking our way carefully in the ruins. Desperately one

tried to hold on to oneself, but things were beyond control.
At midnight, pandemonium! We only wanted to change a few things,
to draw the curtain over that blemished picture ---
wild sands scattered our signs, thunder blasted our tables and chairs.

--translated by Gordon T. Osing



《家》組詩之一：廣場

連場春雨後我們一朝醒來
忽然發覺家具都老了
今日的軀體無處安頓
在我們和舊日的床褥之間

產生了許多世代的距離
終日在靜物間尋找所愛
記憶蒸發牆壁滲出了汗水
龍紋瓷磚上看見了裂縫

四周堆積的言語堆積的事物
界定我們我們卻想重新界定門窗
永遠的廣場上搭起一個個臨時帳蓬
心中有飄泊的燈光來往開關

從頭整理居所重拾種種意義
失去了屋脊我們在被搜查過的客廳
尋一綑新的繩子去丈量今天
想跨過地上縱橫的牽絆緊緊地

抱住自身也不能完全自主
被黑夜驚醒讓我們有新的秩序
想拉開一幅布遮住塗污的肖像
風砂刮起紙屑雷暴劈裂了桌椅