A student's hand Broken Pieces in a Quake
For the Dead in 512 Earthquake in Sichuan China
You crawl out, from ruins, from a narrow opening, from darkness
You join in the humanity by way of rebirth, and
I still can not
Because I have always been exposed to the broad daylight, I
Condemned to linger in this world
In a bigger and ruggedized space integrated with virtuality.
What I can type out are
Merely electronic.
But the pencil in you tight hold is
The key to the next world.
You have to use it as
A paddle
Delivering you through the ruins.
Your arm thrusts out from the debris, stiff and
Dirty
So dirty
That I am forced to turn away despite
My stiff neck
“You cold stiff body my body can never
Never again warm with my body, one flesh, ours.
This last ride I and you embark on will reach its end
Of fire.
At this moment, my red bride, I do not want you to be a phoenix
But a hen, pecking me
For my roughness.”
You tie her corpse on your back, the motor the ferry across the Lethe,
And you make the back wall of my heart freezing.
I am a firm atheistic highly-educated intellectual, probably one of the elite,
Who at the most emotional moments can keep coolly skeptic
Toward any superstitious beliefs,
But the legend goes
The reestablishment of a new town
Does need the sacrifice of hundreds of virgins and numerous laborers,
Like the great wall
Which needed a foundational stake of human trunk to last
For ten thousand generations.
It did not stand
The tears of a wife.
However I shed tears, the salt that instills into the dust could not
Congeal the remains. There will be new schools with lively children, and then (of course
It is then) even more stately buildings with national flags of bureaus, councils and hotels,
And the then-buildings will then be renovated again to keep pace with the soaring GDP
To illustrate the happiness of the people.
Lo, the witnessing children will recite lauds
When the sun rises on every anniversary.
But you, you can never enter my memory,
You have never entered my memory,
You are but strangers, in lives past or future, and we will never have chances to meet.
Your deaths add to the weight of an ever-increasing number,
From coal mines to sweatshops to traffic disasters,
Which has numbed my sense of greatness, as if I have been strong enough
To hold a mountain like a coward angry Atlas with reserved detachment and aloofness.
You can not enter my memory,
You can not enter my forgetting.
You are only human, having one life,
And this makes no difference between you and me, expect that I live a little longer.
May 19-20 2008
For the Dead in 512 Earthquake in Sichuan China
You crawl out, from ruins, from a narrow opening, from darkness
You join in the humanity by way of rebirth, and
I still can not
Because I have always been exposed to the broad daylight, I
Condemned to linger in this world
In a bigger and ruggedized space integrated with virtuality.
What I can type out are
Merely electronic.
But the pencil in you tight hold is
The key to the next world.
You have to use it as
A paddle
Delivering you through the ruins.
Your arm thrusts out from the debris, stiff and
Dirty
So dirty
That I am forced to turn away despite
My stiff neck
“You cold stiff body my body can never
Never again warm with my body, one flesh, ours.
This last ride I and you embark on will reach its end
Of fire.
At this moment, my red bride, I do not want you to be a phoenix
But a hen, pecking me
For my roughness.”
You tie her corpse on your back, the motor the ferry across the Lethe,
And you make the back wall of my heart freezing.
I am a firm atheistic highly-educated intellectual, probably one of the elite,
Who at the most emotional moments can keep coolly skeptic
Toward any superstitious beliefs,
But the legend goes
The reestablishment of a new town
Does need the sacrifice of hundreds of virgins and numerous laborers,
Like the great wall
Which needed a foundational stake of human trunk to last
For ten thousand generations.
It did not stand
The tears of a wife.
However I shed tears, the salt that instills into the dust could not
Congeal the remains. There will be new schools with lively children, and then (of course
It is then) even more stately buildings with national flags of bureaus, councils and hotels,
And the then-buildings will then be renovated again to keep pace with the soaring GDP
To illustrate the happiness of the people.
Lo, the witnessing children will recite lauds
When the sun rises on every anniversary.
But you, you can never enter my memory,
You have never entered my memory,
You are but strangers, in lives past or future, and we will never have chances to meet.
Your deaths add to the weight of an ever-increasing number,
From coal mines to sweatshops to traffic disasters,
Which has numbed my sense of greatness, as if I have been strong enough
To hold a mountain like a coward angry Atlas with reserved detachment and aloofness.
You can not enter my memory,
You can not enter my forgetting.
You are only human, having one life,
And this makes no difference between you and me, expect that I live a little longer.
May 19-20 2008
A man strapped his wife's corpse to his back, ready to send her to the crematory震碎的
你爬了出来，从废墟中，从一个狭窄的洞口，从一片黑暗中
你以重生的方式才能加入人类，而我
还不能
因为我一直在光天化日之下，我
只配压在一个更大更坚固的空间中苟延
敲出一些只不过是字的
电子符号
而你手中抓紧的笔
是进入另一世界的钥匙
你却必须将它用作
桨
企图划过废墟
你伸出的手臂与沙石一样僵硬
很脏
很脏
我被逼扭头，只是脖子
太僵硬
“你僵硬而冰凉的肉身
我再也无法焐暖
这最后一程的终点是
火
而此刻，我的红妆新娘，我不要你是凤凰
只想你像平常一样抱怨
我的鲁莽”
你将她捆在背后，那摩托像死亡的渡船
你们令我心脏的后壁发凉
而我是坚定的无神论者知识分子受过最高的教育甚至可能被归为精英分子
我在最动情的时刻也会保持清醒的拒绝迷信的职业化的怀疑精神
然而
一座城的再生
确实需要献祭很多童男童女和无数的劳工
虽然传说曾经证明这一迷信只需要眼泪就能不攻自破
例如一个民族的伟大城墙
据信如果将一个人做了肉桩
便能确保万年不倒
却没能抵御一个妻子的嚎啕
而我怎样流泪也无助于将一座座城镇的废墟滴注得更加坚实
让一座新城崛起，还将会有崭新的学校和活泼的儿童
然后（当然是然后）会有各种升着旗帜的楼宇， XX局、X院、委员会与宾馆
接着将是那些楼宇会一再翻修与扩建，大门越来越华丽壮实
一次次证明经济腾飞GDP急速窜升人民更加安居乐业
看啊，孩子们将见证这一切
在每个纪念日齐声朗诵赞美的词句
只是你们并不能进入我的记忆
你们从来就没有
你们绝对不会与我有相遇相识的机缘，无论在今生或者来世
你们只是因为死亡才使一个逐日巨大的数字突然之间沉重无比
你们不过是以再一次缺失证明自己的存在而令我难堪
我，对于那个数字的逐日增长一直失语，从矿难到童工到车祸
我自以为已练就了一种泰山压不到顶所以不会弯腰的怯弱的愤怒的隐忍的超然与抽离
你们并不能进入我的记忆
你们并不能进入我的遗忘
你们是人，活过
这一点我和你们毫无差别，除了活得各有长短
2008年5月20日
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