Fan Jinghua: Self Healing

　　　　　Self-Healing
Winter’s quilt falls on the earth, an enshrouding safety,
And Heaven’s arch door is locked by two latches.
A silkworm coils up in the semi-darkness, glowing as silk strings.
Imaginary matchsticks do not shed wax tears of a candle,
They are melting the mound and creek under the cupping hands.
In the cave of metaphor, Platonic roses bloom on the bed,
Coldness still lingers outside the window, and a prolonged drought
Is temporarily relieved with the first snow that comes late.
The earth’s blue veins swell like cobra roots of banyans,
And the queen of the night has a pot of tea ready for the summer sunset
To fall and steal into a dusky yard where the apparition of a peach flower
Reminds a once down-and-outer of a maiden from his past.
Expectation since the harvest moon is scarring over, itchy,
But it is healing by itself under the quilt of the winter.
　　　　　　　　　　　Feb. 11, 2011

　　　　自愈
冬日的大被是安全的，天的拱门
插上了钌铞，蚕宝宝雌伏
在黑暗中，发出如丝如弦的幽光
想象的火柴棒不滴烛泪，融化双手覆盖的
山丘和溪水，柏拉图的春花开在隐喻的洞穴
而窗外依旧清冷，干旱因一场迟来的初雪
得到暂时缓解，大地靛青的静脉如菩提树根
暗潮纠结，昙花已备好一壶茶
为配合夏夜潜入庭院而预演一次桃花魅影
秋收以来的期待开始结疤，痒，但正在痊愈
　　　　　　　2011年2月11日