Fan Jinghua: A Touch of Summer

　　A Touch of Summer

After bath, strands of hair curl down
like snakes dangling by
your face. Two obsidian beads below your brows.

Almost washed is the sky, with few stars
regarding each other. White lilies rise to the waist
of enclosure fences, colorfully.

Your mind uncouples the iron gate, and something
hisses into the courtyard. You feel its expansion
but nothing touches. Like a straying cool draught.

Two fingers, as if out of reflex, cramp together the low neckline,
the distant howling like a wolf. You stand intent,
but nothing can be heard. Something is evading you.

The bed, like a well-bound raft, wobbles in the dark. Rainless
for three weeks, a leave falls from the parasol tree before the window
to the ground, green, waiting for dewdrops.
　　　　　　　　　Feb. 26-27, 2008

　　夏意

浴后，几缕潮湿的头发
小蛇一般，荡
在她的脸侧。那眉下镶着黑晶石。

几乎纯净的夜空，星星稀少，彼此
疏远地观注，而百合花翘首
在围墙的腰际，白得艳丽。

她的心抽开大门的铁插销，某种东西
“咝”的一声闪进了院子，漫开。
有感，无触。像一股游离的凉意。

右手无知地抬起，掖了掖浴衣的胸，远方
孤独如间或的狼嚎，而当她凝神
却什么也听不到。在躲避她。

床，像一张细致捆扎的筏子，在身后
暗中晃荡。三周无雨，一张梧桐叶从窗前
落下，还是绿的，等待露水。
　　　　　　2008年2月26-8日