Poetry

世纪的喧嚣成全了心灵之美
当然，这只是相对而言
相对于冰河期的冷酷、无助
相对于背景的选项：
即使有篝火和洞壁艺术
有围绕着篝火的舞蹈和歌声
不安定的心仍然在寻找机会

你不会去关注泥层深处
黑麦的散步与大麦的散步有何不同
尤其是发明了归类法之后
你的心里生出许多箱子
动辄将眼前之物塞入
至于尺寸、质料，以及惨叫
则常简略之，甚至完全不计
正如一部血淋林的历史
加入历史这个箱子和标签后
就可以宣布历史的结果
仍然是善良的、充满道义的

然而，如果你能够亲历
能够一步步走过来
脸颊炭黑，裤管淌着泥水
在生存的漩涡里拦截任何漂浮物
无论是木头还是稻草都不放过
直到等来载有食物的船
你的看法就可能改变

正如当代人手握手机
在心里不停地刷屏
每一时刻都被花花世界占满
准备着探险和奇遇
虽然它们中的许多
被证明只是些个人隐私

但这就足够了
足以对古典时代在荒凉的路口
苦苦等待戈多的那些人
嗤之以鼻，不明白
他们为何如此难以接地气

黑长裙和燕尾服
从幕后鱼贯滑向前台
谁在掌声翻浪中，回到
少男少女的布拉格之春？
它曾令历史别无选择
而现在，那些加诸于身的
全被古老的波西米亚挣脱了

于是，熏风还原为熏风
蜕去盖满红印章的皮囊
卸下履带和硝烟
只剩下音乐的精灵
无形，但不停地变换形状
在柔软的心弦弹拨竖琴

歌声里走出美人鱼
黄昏的水面，浮起
在历史中沉陷的布拉格
雄浑的男声钢花淬火
帝国的铁轭被打成犁耙
欢快的女声轮唱中
一群白鸽从瀑布飞来
嘴里衔着橄榄枝
指挥棒魔幻般挥动
记忆急闪出黑白照片
列宁装和布拉吉裙
粘着生锈的青春舞曲

那在父辈的反叛中
轰然倒塌的母语之厦
用久违的歌声证明
复活和新生是一回事
布谷鸟唤醒的春播
世纪以来总是如此

多好，来自德伏夏克的故乡
也是卡夫卡和昆德拉的故乡
但是今夜，我们不谈
生命中无法承受的重与轻
不谈几多变形的过去
只愿亲近樱桃园夜莺
撒下的音乐种子
只想陶醉于伏尔塔瓦河
泛起的柔波
只望被歌声的天使翅膀
反反复复地拍打

You can only in your heart
dance a waltz with a blood-red sunset
Of course, your steps cannot keep pace with hers
You fall into the dark night while swirling around
unable to appreciate how the graceful arc
completes a circle in a distant foreign land

Spinning waltz drives a greater spin
but now you can no longer swirl yourself
Your foot down on the pedal, hands on the steering wheel
which is also a beautiful round
The sea cup bubbles make you enchanted
You are going through the sunset at sea
In front of a greater rotation
you feel dizzy, disoriented
Wave roars, bristling thousands tongues

How many people walk into the sea
experiencing the ocean sunsets
passionately embracing the fullness of life
its charm of smoothness and steadiness
For a soothing dance
For a time period marked by brilliantness

You desire to enter that red cave
to burn up the dirt clouded on the body
to follow on the sunrise of a new day
to born again, to live out a different meaning

The moon stands on a stump
like a crowing rooster
Such things happen often
before the dawn breaks, trees have been cut down
Silent void is so pale

Adjusting the mood, then look again
you might say, Calla’s innermost words
are so lovingly touching
smoothening the pain of losing foliage
Sometimes, the virtual is not distorted
You perceive, then you exist
You interpret, then you grow beauty

If you have tried to follow the scene
imagine a conversation touching the heart
unfolds in life under the moon
The two sides of talkers
can be moon and tree stump
can be you and another person
or can be just yourself as well

The moon is not in the water, but on the stump
This scene is lighted by a candle
Moonlight candle will not be blown off
Despite life often shows the brutal deforestation
there will be a gentle healing
Your occasional glance
will touch the silver hope

A battered tree, covering its wounds
gently cries out: moon, moon
Thus, the moon comes
Such a thing, you cannot say never happen
Witnessing such an intimate embrace
you are tempted to say
the moon is a new growth bud from the stump

请给语言下一道命令
迫使你如此行
在烛光快熄灭的瞬间
拧亮一盏更大的灯
 
而不至于被自己的执拗
怂恿得更加刚愎
也不至于刚一显露阴云
就被催化成一场大雨
 
你要用这些词的岩石结构
建造汪洋中一座小岛
为暮气沉沉的木屋
挂上一串清脆的风铃
 
请给哲学研究划上语言的句号
为了向岸的奋游中水声持续
为了不被黑冥的虚空蚕食
是下命令的时候了
 
这样，当厄运刚一开口
就会被这些语言的骠骑兵
用寒光闪闪的利剑逼退
而你的心定
迅速改变迟疑的脚步

The body is opened up by a word
stung by a word
Tears are running for a word
A word is a seed
You never know for sure
if it can bloom into a flower
or develop into a thorn

Flushing along blood vessels
the word becomes blood
Sleeping in bleak shadow
the word becomes dream
Thousands of roads spread across over heart
The word is on the way
looking for a resting hotbed

One word seeks for another word
Negotiating and embellishing with each other
and assembling idiom, vulgarism, or metaphor
Even a thousandth meaning
can collect the light like a firefly
flying around in your field

Wandering in a word
but clear-headed in another
You carefully select a word
and the word selects you as well

A word in your footsteps
hastening you or blocking you
Maybe you have to wait to the end of life
when you really understand the meaning of this word