Fan Jinghua: Imago of Love

　　　Imago of Love
Two words are enough to drive the world: manly, womanly;
Too few people are not living as a kind,
In the garden, senses and ardor are vegetably implanted.
In the union that makes even the mundane go around and around,
Like a song, you are what you have been
From the day you were impressed to the day you were hinged to a promise,
And your measure repeats with unperceivable tonic shift,
Timeless in a lifetime. That should be prized, I guess,
And I bless you two like a saint
With empty arms full of longings for holding you alone.
You, a love-framed imago that can last
Which this world has witnessed
Too many not to be happy and content.

Devoid of reasons, therefore, you remain to be my love for the world
Only when you are a simile in my sight, a metaphor in mind,
Or, you will make a garden a well of hurt, insidious and cold-blooded.

In the beginning of the end, which happens to be fall, as is imaginable,
You are a dwarf fig
Growing into my garden of knowledge,
Tiny flowers blooming inside fruits
That, literally, never transport and are hard to keep intact.
I cannot bear the sight of you in a ceramic container or a frig, frosty,
For the animal beauty in you effloresces only in the open air
Where I, too, can be a worthy beast.
But in your garden, a loveseat holds two potted Spanish daggers and one ashtray;
In the living room with a chandelier, lyre chairs have cabriole legs and satin seats,
Too clean to be like Freud’s crimson couch.

Love makes me sick of them and grumpy like a rusty door-bar,
For you are a candle of aching red that lubricates
And seals my green and grey years.
When the world is a windless garden,
I conjure up a machinery of a winding veranda
Where myriad tendrils of vines touch the windowpanes.
　　　　　　　　　　　　Nov. 16-17 2007



　《义务》Onus (1992) by Robin Kranitzky & Kim Overstreet (from the artists' website)

　　　爱情成像
只有两个词总是生机勃勃：雄与雌；
没有多少人不能依类而分别，
这花园里，预先植入了五色与热情。
媾联驱动俗常与陈腐，一圈圈旋转，像一首歌，
你，是一段时间，
始于被人留下印象，终于被许给一个诺言，
小节线内，旋律自动重复，调性的变化难以察觉，
一生的时间足够永恒。
这其实值得嘉赏，于是我像圣徒一样祝福你们，
空空的双臂充满了拥抱你的渴望，
你，爱情相框里的图像，积累着时间带来的
可以冲淡的满足；
这已被世界见证了太多，
它不会感到悲哀，
你也不该觉得缺少浓情。

因为没有因为，所以你依然是我对这个世界的爱恋，
只是你是我的比喻，明在视觉中，暗在理智下；
否则，你会令一座花园变成一口伤害之井，阴险而冷血。

当结束刚开始的时候，恰逢秋气初萌，可以想象的自然，
一棵矮株无花果
已在我的知识之园中丰腴，
小米似的花朵开在果实的脐孔内，
它们无法运输到异地也很难保鲜多久，
因此世界消费着你的细丝切片。
不忍看你雪藏在瓷砖的集装箱里或者冰柜中浮着一层粉霜，
你那动物的美只有在风中霜化才令人的心痛值得，
我，也只在露天才是动物。
而你家的花园里，双人椅上坐着两盆凤尾兰和一只烟灰缸，
水晶吊灯的散弹照明了起居室，竖琴的椅背，弧线的腿与缎面的座，
比弗洛伊德的绛红色沙发干净而整洁许多。

爱情令我憎恨这一切，我像生锈的门闩一样唧唧咕咕，
你本是一支红烛，刺痛夜间的人，
或者润滑或者密封我青涩或者灰白的岁月。
当世界沉入一座无风的花园，
我构想出九曲的游廊
万千藤蔓的卷须触摸窗面。
　　　　　　　　　　　2007年11月19日