Performing Love
Over mountains, across rivers
There must be a word that flies, even if it stops when pronounced
To designate I as here you as there
Every of your sleeps is my reverie
I am a puppet with wings
But now, acquiescing to the stillness, you seldom turn
My tongue lolls out in the sun
It tenses up the instant when your heart buds
The cleavage of low flames
Days ferment words
Night is for the fermentation of language
I stick my head into its hearth and do not find a word of my own
Moonless, phoenix and its tree have gone
That word has nowhere to perch even if spelt out
After a chuckle, I zip up my mouth with my tongue
How I hope to bind your legs together and put you on a pedestal
And plant between your heels a seed of carnivorous vine
And wait for an umbilical flower
Swallow me, love, don’t nibble
I am not a hook with a worm
Nov. 6, 2007
施爱
必然有一个会飞的字
山不阻水不隔 即使它一经说出 便会停止
将我指定为这儿 你为那儿
你那儿的每一次入睡都是我这儿不着边际的浮想
我是一只木偶缠着翅膀
而此刻你的心如万籁的寂静 不再难眠
我的舌头耷拉在阳光下
瞬间就能绷紧——如果你的心绽放
火焰的低温乳沟
白昼发酵着人们的话
夜晚便是为了让语言自我发酵
而我将头伸进它的炉膛 也没找到一个属于我的字眼
无月之夜 凤凰和它的树都不见了
即便那个字拼写出来也无处可栖
嘿嘿一声后 我用舌头将我的嘴封死
多想也把你的双腿捆紧 抱你到一座高台
在你两脚之间种下一粒食人花的种子
然后我将不舍昼夜 守候脐带似的花朵
吞掉我 爱 不要蚕食
我不是一只鱼钩带着饵
2007年11月6日
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