蛇像粗麻绳，勒住拉奥孔
垂死的父子们，眼眶里的惊恐
是否在为祭司生涯留下脚注？
南方的葡萄园熟了
读史的少年，在葡萄的影子里
冥想成为爱琴海的一朵浪花
少年的思路，无法跟踪端午雄黄酒
如何使一个俊俏的女人变形
峨眉的冷杉径，金山寺的沙洲
都被月光的白纸盖住
你捅破白纸，读出一些模糊的字迹
渡口的银杏树下
一个书生风尘仆仆地赶来
但艄公已撑船离岸
留他在破旧的古庙
等候狐仙敲门的声音
古镇朴实的小街，高塔阴影中
传来一个姑娘的脚步
两根粗黑辫子在肩后悄声对话
引来男人们的目光
几年之后，一位抗婚的女子
打开窗，从紧锁的闺房逃离
她消失于河上
一只篷船驶出塔影
另一些人和另一些事
正走在摇摇欲坠的桥上
你想起卡桑德拉，叹口气说
情书往往发展得太出人预料
自以为顺畅，反倒无法沟通
这些残章片语，张着双翼
飞出老辈人的茶桌
将散落的羽毛缝补成月光
使你在沉睡中清醒，清醒中沉睡
你艰难地从桨声中捞起这些故事
这个梦者信以为真的南方
这条滑溜溜的雨蛇
这片转瞬即逝的火光
The silk surface of green water
tightly wraps your limped body
You endeavor to break out
unwilling to slide into her arms
Otherwise
many words would be choked
and too late to tell. If so
you would be unable to touch G chord in the deep
and the listeners could not catch
beats of a heart made of water
Just as, if you did not
participate in this concert
you would not be in this water forest
dazing against a moss
worrying about the whereabouts of a team of ants
and for the sake of your own identity
a fish or a deer
looking toward clouds time after time
A burst of green breeze whisks your ears
“How to get to the florist please?”
“West to Third Street and turn right.”
It was Chopin’s heart a moment ago
beating in your water wave
Now all have come back to the street
entering the outdoor scene of a movie
To live truly
often, it may mean
to keep fantasying yourself from multi angles
from one person into another person
from a fish into a deer
from one existence into another existence
现在，时间开始加速度
浸透少年的番茄汁更酸了
嫉妒自己和嫉妒别人
都在迅速加入过去
如果你从未亲眼感受海伦
读到这一段希腊传说时
会对战争的智慧更感兴趣
而忽视了海伦的文化底蕴
海伦的名字对于我们
只能尽义务为一种谈资
与你自定义的文明人有关
甚至与你的职业有关
即使屋檐下夜色染黑冰凌
你坐在哔啵的壁炉旁
也不会说：我仍在等你
除非她已经匿名
然后内化于年轻时的恋人
你才会把那个小岛的微风当成真的
甚至当成一阵脚步，一缕呼吸
一袭熏香，一曲细雨的温馨
关于她与另一个她
以及更多的她
比如保尔的冬妮亚
比如牛虻的琼玛
使你实在难以分清
哪些是你的阅读体验
哪些是你的真实经历
I am the sea whose waves travel the world
I am the water in waters
I drink up the light and shadow from the cup of sky
My wet skin twinkles on the surface
Wind calls on my name
The horse of white waves carries me
crossing the great mountains of night
There is the white spire of church at my uproarious street fair
There will be the sound of the evening bell of temple on my silent reef
I breathe the wheat field to be reaped
The golden wheat awns stand on my body
I pave my doorway steps crystal
I brew my mood blue
I play and sing in front of the score made of coralline
I have my eyes open all the time
But before entering your castle of heart
you cannot see me
I step on light, strolling on bare foot
Along with me is
the passion of weeds in bubbles
the dream born from shell
and the youth decorated with colorful jellyfish
Wind opens my window
My pebbles are smooth and lubricious
I am rough north and tender south
Poplar trees and palm trees
dance one after another in the shadow of my wave
My toes are covered with white gown of surf
rustling on your sand beach
The words on my lips are drooping wine
I will not be aground but will care
if you accept me fervidly
or reject me coldly
I will lick your wound with music
I will bring salty alga
and golden bread of sunlight
rolling them out on your shining table
only expecting you, deep at heart
to feed my shoal with gentle moonlight
重返一个地方是残酷的
但诱因却是美丽的
伊甸园以多种方式出现
故乡，故国，故人
惯常在多棱镜中变形变景
记忆不断从一个深坑
跳入另一个深坑
现在想来，你所有的经历
无非是出走，漫游，回归
无非是岁月的大河
一条鱼朝着某一点的趋近
想要换一种方式进行
总是有多种不同的组合
但一旦选择，就走上不归路
即使你有意停止脚步
水波仍然在流，有声或无声
而你坚信的方舟
是否仍然栩栩如梦？
给你一个渔夫的故事
你是否会把鱼线甩进皱纹
将鱼钩，变成心灵的问号
而将自己，变成岁月的鱼饵？
艳红的朝霞一转身
你就看到黄昏的剪影
那么，回归就成了一场演习
其实际的功效
仅仅发生在回归
真真实实的抵达之前
Sitting is not Zazen, but to
experience Plato’s cave metaphor
to take a look at
how the fire burns its own shadow
how the idol of the cave is formed
and what its relationship with Theater Idol
Darkness does not come from hell
In the cave, hell is deposed
However, one thing is unsure
if the black is the shadow of hell
Morpheus who lures Faust
also, wears in black
Shadows gather outside the cave
forming a larger shadow
The empty jug of the cave
is darker than night and more empty
Did it ever have water?
When did the water get dried?
These are some of the questions
You hear the sound of water gurgling
as if something is re-returning
This familiar strangeness, like
the entity that changes its name
In the cave, that is just a hallucination
When a lantern is blacked it becomes a cave
The point of the black hole of the sun
in a meditator’s opinion, is just
a certain point of ellipsis
The remaining points
only through the meditation of cave
can really be seen
The mind that is looking for cave
is formed to be a cave by the cave
Is this just to prove
everything has not to be looked from outside
all is contained in the inner secrets?
Long been abandoned crown
experiencing the process of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis
is being re-crowned
走进树林
树干上刀的印痕
刻着狩猎的野性呼唤
折断的树枝像一根手指
暮色开始青筋膨胀
我想到血，想到愈合的伤口
想到伏树祈祷的少女
长满苔藓的树根钻出地面
青蛇盘旋，向着溪水爬行
我没有退路，走回自己
在纵横的红河畔徘徊
外部和内部，面面相觑
树叶哗哗作响
风声的话语很轻
树上的果子开始变形
马头，牛头，鸟头，豹头
纷纷拨开枝叶，朝我吐舌露齿
我听不清它们说的话
也不知道它们的形象本身
对我隐喻着什么，预示着什么
否则，我也会写一部神曲
从树根之下，一直写到
树巅笔尖下的黎明
这不是但丁迷路的黑森林
没有指路的维吉尔
也没有以昔日恋人命名的
引领人飞升的仙女
我始终是在自言自语
我是我自己的森林
Oh, time
Please stick to every day’s bottom line
Please construct a bridge in the lost river
and build a road in the trackless wild
Please roar on the back of a gorgeous tiger
brighten the lights on the wings of fireflies
Let the rain walk through the South
while the Northern birch holding an umbrella
The rain threads in fish ponds
the needle weaves the curtain of Crystal Cave
The debt is always connected to tomorrow
so we shall live a good life today
If no one to share
then enjoy a glass of wine all by yourself
Use a feather duster to gently flick away
the toil of today, as well as
the dust oozing from the crystal heart