Fan Jinghua: Things Come to Pass

　　Things Come to Pass

At the height of summer, fruits are little buddhas
Too early to pick up, the scent
Richer than faint, but we cannot taste the mellowness yet
So many people have passed by, like a bus of passengers
Returning or leaving home, happiness hidden behind eyelids
Doesn’t this bring enough

All those possibles remain possible
Because they have never been spoken out
And the necessity of speaking sinks
As night falls, door and eyes will close
Mouths will open as they feel natural
And breathing follows its own rhythm

My ignorant hands dip into the water of horror
As if they are gripping a slippery wet vine on a cliff
However hard I try, I cannot climb up to a platform
The bustling steps give me a satisfying solitude
Even in imagination my memory has already stirred
A warm sense of faint pain and yearning
　　　　　　　　　　August 26-27, 2008


　　过往的事

盛夏，果子大腹便便
摘下来尚嫌早些
味道有了，只是我们还不能品尝到醇厚
路过的那么多人，像一车乘客
归家或远行，人人的眼中暗藏着幸福
这，还不够令我欣喜么

那么多可能之所以仍然可能
就是因为没有说出
而无需再说了
入夜之后，门与眼睛就会关上
嘴微微张开
呼吸按自然的节奏

我的手在无知中插进一种恐慌之水
像抓着悬崖上一根湿滑的滕条
使多大的劲也不能爬上去
听着纷沓的足音，我孤独得心满意足
记忆甚至在想象之中就已经隐隐地
泛起了疼痛与渴望的感觉
　　　　　　　　　　2008年8月27