Delivery
Who is going to miss you
as the eyebrow-shaped moon hangs in the immense night sky
like a kite, tailless and stringless, and it regards drunkenly
the dark trees that canopy themselves and all those that lie beneath them
in the northern country where you sleep soundly
in the form of a riderless boat
delivering yourself from a small bay to a vast one called eternity?
Who among the sleepless ones will make water cry, drowning out the snoring,
rowing upstream to you as if toward dawn in the waning moon?
Whom can your dreams deliver
when your body is given to an embrace?
There will always be a pair of hands that write your name over and over
till a relief is made into the daily calendar, but the eyes know
there is nothing behind the words, except the ruts.
June 29-30, 2008
度
当月亮的娥眉在无限的夜空，如无尾无线的风筝，垂顾着
幽暗的树木自成冠盖并遮掩膝下的一切，谁
会在此刻思念北国的你蜷曲成一只无主之船的形状，
在一只小小的港湾，船头儿翘起，向着一顷更加浩瀚的永恒？
谁将荡起失眠的眼神，搅扰时间之水，淹没另一个人的鼾声，
逆流向你，把月牙儿划向黎明？
当你将身体让渡给他人的怀抱，你的梦又能度脱谁？
尽管总有一双手会日复一日地写着你的名字，直到
阳文在日历本上凝结出浮雕，而眼睛明白，
笔锋可以力透岁月的纸背，而词句背后却依然一无所有。
2008年6月30日
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