Fan Jinghua: An Autumn Sketch

　　An Autumn Sketch

This chair is meant for two, and I sit on it alone,
most of it untaken. Here in a park,
there will be no one in prospect to take up the other end,
for people may go in and out of the same space
and let the same used air come in and out of them,
but not likely share the concrete recess in front of a tree.
I mobilize one leg away from the ground, and it sits toward me
almost as high as I, so we are two people on a tryst.
Beyond the lawn, container trucks are exhibiting
a moving wall of advertisement segmented between poles of firs.
They stand so tall as if they have always been so proud, never looking
down or back, that its ascension into the sky becomes fiercely frail.
I stand up on the chair and find myself in a meadow
divided and contained by serpentine jogger’s paths.
　　　　　　　　　　　September 22, 2008

　　　秋日素描
这张双人椅，我一个人坐着，
留空一大半。在公园，不太会有人
来占据那空出的一端。
人们可以进进出出于同一片空间，
让反复使用过的空气进进出出于彼此，
却努力避免在同一张水泥椅子上实实在在地休憩。
我将一条腿从地面上搬上来，于是
它靠向我，几乎与我一样高，我们像两个幽会的人。
草坪的边际，杉树排出一个柱廊，
之外，集装箱卡车展示着活动的广告墙。
那么高的杉树啊，它们似乎一直如此骄傲，从不
低头、从不回顾，向天空的窜升透出凶猛的脆弱。
我也站了起来，发现自己周围是一片绿草，
被刷上黄色脚印的慢跑道蜿蜒地分割、紧紧地包围。
　　　　　　　　　　2008年9月22日