种子在地下交换意见
它们之间的距离是既定的
不用担心越界，也不用担心
贫瘠的纷争，扩张的充血
以及长年挣脱不出的朝代循环
每一粒种子的疆土，都是
如此饱满，如此安全
怀着对暗契的尊重
对黝黑肥沃的家园的感恩
它们不是一亩地的乌合之众
不是绿油油的铁板一块
虽然，大风中的嘶吼像是集体发声
但是仔细听
每一株个体发出的声音都是不一样的
栖息是一种坚守
其本体移动是有分寸的
即使放浪形骸的舞蹈
在狂烈的酒中点燃篝火
也是局部的、暂时的、无关全局的
栖息是一道命令
是一种自上而下的道德律
“我必须如此行”
与“我想要如此行”
之间的区别微乎其微
钻出土壤既是一项使命
也是一种自由意志
Like glittering morning dew
on grass and beyond shadow
two sunflowers
face to face, tenderly bloom
Each face bulges to crimson and
becomes the sun yearned by the other
in this burning morning, the sky of heart
Alluring to each other, two suns
finally overlap at the center of light
melting down. The heart drum is beaten
by invisible hands with music
Oh, they are kissing, the young lovers
So devoted, so spongy, and so rioted
Gaze twists gaze, permeating cool green
Don’t know if a vine enlaces a tree
or a tree wraps a vine
As if when lips touch lips
a magic wand comes out to turn stone into gold
and freezes the flowing time to eternity
The wind is fanning, like Cupid is calling
The lawn under feet is turning into a flying carpet
and carrying the young lovers blessed by
Aladdin lamp
flying to the sky of poetry
flying to two people’s castle
Their bodies are made of water
So soft, just like water
Sunlight kisses water wave
Fish spring to the surface from the bottom
as if two mouths touching to each other
Oh, don’t disturb them
Let them send out ripple to the surface
from heartbeat of spray
and finally makeup a perfect ring
Many years after, when time elapses like water
memory wash gray hair on head
You still can recognize
that moment dyed by sunshine
those two faces, two sunflowers
沧桑的远行者
能避免问“还有多远”吗？
也许隔着一片云海
也许隔着一座山峦
如此，是时时惦念目标呢
还是只顾耽于过程？
一支歌无须反复聆听
才能体验歌里歌外的况味
只须在少年听一次
老年再听一次
将连接两者的线抖一抖
就会看见岁月的尘埃飞扬
就能触摸泪水串起的珍珠了
一道闪电划出一个人的轮廓
虽然颜面模糊，双臂缺失
但是经络分明，体态丰满
至于太阳这只热气球
如何在你红润的脸蛋冒汗
就不是昔日少年所能理解的了
只能说：过去所见的物物区别
如今全都无原则地整合了
这倒不是说你对美丑一视同仁
而是说，岁月成熟
你终于能够宽厚地看待区别了
这样，当你站在河岸
看到眼泪在清流的漩涡打转
就会生出怜悯之心
理解丰饶坦荡的大地
也有羞与人道的辛酸之处了
There is a wispy sound in the dark
I cannot tell, is this your groan
or the memory from many years ago
on my bare forehead
stepping tone
Say goodbye in the dark
Grow up in the dark
The warmness in the dark, a body
against another body, the stroke
cannot be seen. Only the fragrance of drink
residues, in the glass of the dark
speaking out flirting words
as soft as cheese
In her mouth, a crow holds a slice of cheese, on a tree
A fox is flattering, below the tree
The crow smiles happily, the cheese falls into the fox’s mouth
The story spreads out and passes on to us
It is the story about you and me
For a beautiful word
we walk up to cliff, and
dash ahead regardless of our life
Until our black hair
is burned out by the fire of time
we turn around and look back, trying to distinguish
the fox and the crow
the man and the woman
those similar loving words and eye expression
La Fontaine we are here
listening to ancient chime in the dark
to whispering sound of guitar
to flickering of well water in moonlight
to flower boldly blooming arms
to moist footstep of night traveler
Perhaps the sunshine is burning far
But we are growing up in the dark
We have grown up in Plato’s allegory of the cave
收起一把黑伞
天光也随之阴暗了
视觉效应也许不足靠
心理效应却是靠谱的
若不然
就难以解释人的行为了
如果止于某一点
一只花蝴蝶落在一朵花上
潜意识可能无法分清
那是两朵花在成双起舞
还是一种视觉的异化叠加
找到一个定点
也就确定了一段轨迹
一个人傲立于一块山石
说不定就成了一座纪念碑
死后多年仍在向世界招手
用无数根雨水擦燃火柴
并非一桩不可能之事
看看闪电就知道了
星火燎原之天象
宁可点到为止
拒绝为天下大乱负责
正如用小说中的人物
去衡量现实中的人物
是无论如何也行不通的
On abruptly erecting water
in the sprayed fog
who smiles in her preexistence?
Who stands under a tree where
green shade, as water, pours down to heel?
When your life spurts pillar of water
who, standing shoulder to shoulder with you
touches your heart?
Strike me, splash me, and transform me
The midnight moonlight overflows the wall of water
A dream and flowing water are always like this:
sometimes staying tranquil, sometimes pouring out
blasting news
about you and me, the inner truth
When other pillars of water gradually fade away
and you too, finally leave
The echo of memory is no longer a tremor
I scan myself over again: now
Only one pillar of water remains, experiencing
calm solitude, gushing
into stele, wall, monument
wilderness with blossom, village with herds
summer street passed by sprinkler
gloomy riverbed, and lighthouse on reef
How do we shape ourselves into
new images, whether they are pillar of water, monument
brick wall, or a silent chrysalis
that turns into a butterfly after twitch
and dances in the years’ sky
关于夏天的传说，关于
从鹊桥两端靠近的可人儿
节气过后就再不见提起
一切都合乎礼仪
一旦露真，脱下礼服
谁能预料会发生什么呢
时过境迁，断不至于
一点也不念旧情吧
要不怎么会暑热如昨退回往事呢
不过，当你站在门槛前顾后盼
胸贴盛夏的余热，背靠冷秋的崛起
便知季节去意已定，不会改变了
春风曾鼓胀原野的青衫
拂过毗邻竹苑的蒲公英
看它头顶的黄花
如何借喻湖畔的芦花
自留些许，其余匀给黄昏
下一场潇潇粉雨
然后说，一切都过去了
岸畔黄叶鼓瑟，音符络绎
你听，水韵的确已饱含秋声了
但女红的颜色
仍然哼着一曲牛郎之歌
在客人云集的厅堂
话语无不凸显秋意
出口的是女儿的女儿
儿子的儿子
If you were a mollusk
the pain you bear
would be much severer than a vertebrate’s
Sometimes you can only observe
how a song from afar
like an earthworm
squirms, swells, and finally
festers in your heart
Don’t remember when the boundaries and limits
are overlapped
making a great frustration to the emotional rules
The traffic lights have gone wrong
There is a flame over the street
The police patrol frequently calls out, the siren
like a canine, seizes the vehicle running away
To hard intrusion
from the initial whack
you respond quickly by shrinking yourself
As to adapting for sharp appliance
it is nothing more than lacking backbone
bruised and cut through
bearing the suffer silently, never budge
for greeting the new turn of cycle
However to those softer than you
you appear not to know what to do
like the song from afar
can soften you to a puddle of mud
then turn the mud to clean water
a trail of smoke
燃烧的是树枝
但火光看见的是色染的空
枝头先冒出一缕烟
然后升起一个金黄气球
而牵着气球的那根线
被隐身者拉紧，又放松
树枝的实有，从一开始
就完全无力控制火苗
烽火轮上红孩儿的骄横
全无灵秀的水性，殊不知
冰，水为之，而寒于水
火，木纵之，而自焚之
宠溺的结果果只能自己咽下
其实，论证异化的方式
大可不必如此残忍极端
异化既是一种分离
更是一种活剥
但在撩开其华丽面纱时
难道非要听一声惨叫不可吗？
给你话语权指鹿为马
你会做赵高第二吗？
学术毕竟是学术
证明空与实有的关系
每一步皆须踩准逻辑
空本来依附于实有
后来势力做大
就反过来成为实有
变一度绿色的树枝为空
如果抛开理论只看现实
为什么双方不能妥协
双赢成久燃不熄的磷火呢？
就连春秋时代的郑庄公
对与自己为敌的生母
也未使其灰飞烟灭
而是黄泉相见，其乐融融
On one hand dream exaggerates us
enabling our beard to rise sky high
our languor become romance
our coward turn into presumption
Dream constantly applauds us
giving extra credits to us
On the other hand
Dream relentlessly belittles us
exposing our hypocrisy
making our barbarity touchable
Dream constantly leaks our secrets
deducting our points
Plus and minus
pierce our balloon of ideal
following teeth along the open mouth of clock
wash off the light broth in the bowl
If the phenomenological reduction
forcefully strips the ribs of rationality
then could defining dream and reality
be ultimately the same?