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星期日 四月 26, 2009 9:27 am
45) The doors
We talk about doors,
back then, ten years ago,
we never locked them,
nor shut strangers out.
Now, we don’t answer their knocking,
we check the monitor, the peeking-hole.
We hide behind our lonely dens.
While we were poor, we were happy
and willing to share everything
with neighbors, or the needed fellows.
Now, we are rich yet blue -
we fear to lose anything that we hold.
What is wrong with us?
Behind the locked doors,
we are lost.
46)
母亲
我不象母亲，
我的母亲脾气很温和，
眼睛红红的时候，
还轻轻宽慰我。
我象极父亲，
脾气很倔，
再黑的脸也不和
别人道歉。
二十个春秋，
我以为我就这样了，
风风雨雨中，
世事浮沉。
直到爱的种子，
播种在我的心里，
我比母亲还母亲，
手心和脸上，
写满了包容。
47)
故乡的云
小时候，故乡的云
是我们的羊群，
洁白而柔软，
白天天际游荡，
夜晚亮晶晶的眼睛。
什么时候开始，
羊群被牵走了，
我也远走他乡？
多年以后，
再次顶着故乡的云，
却是幽黑的天空，
没有亮晶晶的眼睛，
也没有蓝天白云。
只有牧羊人和我的眼泪
几天几夜下个不停。
4
To my shallow
How to make you happy?
I wish I could huddle you –
my arms stretch, but capture the void.
Why are you so thin?
I have the urge to feed you –
chocolates, tulips, and me, if you wish.
But you are in your coldness,
not caring what happens to you;
the moon sheds your solitary
on my shattered heart
no matter wherever I go.
I think I should leave you
where you could find your happiness.
Under the straight spotlight,
will you shrivel in a sudden,
and disappear without farewell?
