Vagabondage
I can see the door opening to the dark, and a cold front
Jogs by, riding an invisible pony, to the river.
What else but the silent tail would linger, when a fisherman’s lamp
Yellows In its own light, to listen for the disturbed undercurrent?
At such a time, no leaf would fall, nor would
A vagabond spirit.
July 21, 2008
漂泊
你能看到那扇门向黑暗敞开 一道冷锋
一颠一颠地 骑一匹看不见小马 向河边涌去
除了它那安静的尾巴 当渔火
在自己的光中昏黄 还有什么会流连不舍
仅为倾听那被搅扰的潜流
这样的时刻 没有叶子会零落
流浪的灵也不会
2008年7月21日
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