蝉音了了
诗歌和蝉鸣
We vanish on a night like this
1.
This is so good, as if pluck strings deep in the mountain.
What being heard are rocks, withered leaves. The creek nearly halts,
half still half motile.
Then, people feel bored, no shower, no good night,
fall asleep in melancholy.
No matter the moon shines or not, the abyss continuously deepens.
I said in the pond of time, we ought to fear a bit
during our course of free fall.
I mean ought to. This has nothing to do with
the arrived, and the yet-to-arrive.
Night falls, over and over again, no sign of exhaustion.
No matter how we cope with, we will cringe and huddle.
A Le, this is different from a hug, the only shared is
the sentiment that they are dispensable,
and we never said good night.
2.
Once I become quiet, I will be shackled and forced to tug with time.
I will pull hard if I’m not hungry.
I will lie shamelessly on the ground if I haven’t had dinner.
Let it pull me at will,
like a dog who looses its barking.
But the results are the same, joyful, worrisome.
Oh, the results might mean something different to others.
They are on the train to other destinations,
recite other lines in a play.
One careless slip of tongue becomes a jinx.
But you, an actor in a small town, a show host,
is trapped like a loach fish by the river Han.
Trapping is also a form of accomplishment.
A person shouldn’t absorb every breath of whole secular world,
or gaze at a city’s eyes.
3.
A livelihood and life in turmoil don’t fade their colors.
My longing.
Ale, we both are committing crimes.
I am casted light by the plants in the village.
You are expelled by the neon lights in the city.
We fear vanishing, we cling tight to our black boxes.
Even if it’s death, it’s in
our own blood vessels.
I loose patience to my passion,
and your indifference.
To live or not is indeed another matter.
However we exist for many years, without any doubt.
This is unforgivable.
You cough, and cough,
as long as you don’t cough up sputum.
4.
Ah, I can never get rid of my obsession for hygiene.
I can’t tolerate my lover to pick his nose, spit in front of me.
But a farmer’s corpse is dug out.
I still want to touch it,
although I keep throwing up.
Death continuously surges towards me, I feel so light to float.
Of course, I won’t go to capture you, Ale.
Your existence is not for me to capture,
but for me to instantly know how to debone
when I pick up a knife.
But let’s just forget it.
Everyone becomes lighter and lighter, more so when you are concerned.
Up to this point, I suddenly loose my words.
You sleep tight. I sit still.
A eight thousand mile long spring.
《我们在这样的夜色里去向不明》
1.
这样真好，如同在深山里拨琴
听见的是些石头，枯叶。水也不大流了
欲断未断
后来，人也索然无味，不洗，不道晚安
惆怅睡去
月色照不照，深渊继续深着
我说时光的潭里，下沉的途中我们应该有
一些恐惧
我说的是应该。这与已经到来，未曾到来的
没有关联
夜色一次次降临，没有倦意
我们怎么对峙，都会蜷曲起来
阿乐，这与拥抱的姿势不同，相同的只是
一点可有可无的情绪
而我们从来没有道过晚安
2.
我一旦安静，就被套上枷锁与时间拔河
如果我不饿就会很使力
如果我没有吃晚饭，我就赖在地上
任由它拖着我
如一只不吠的狗
结果是一样的，让人欢喜，也忧愁
哦，对于另外的人也许不一样
他们在火车上去另外的地方
背另外的台词
一不小心，一语成菅
而你，一个小城市的戏子，主持人
泥鳅一般困在汉江边
困就是成全
一个人不应该把江湖之气全部收入
看一个城市的目光
3.
动荡的生活和生命是不会褪色的
我的向往
阿乐，我们都在犯罪
我在村庄里被植物照耀
你在城市里被霓虹驱赶
我们害怕失踪，把自己的黑匣子紧紧抱住
哪怕死，也是在自己的
血管里
我对我的热情和你的冷漠都失去了
耐心
活与不活真的是另外一件事情
只是我们明白无误地存在了好多年
真是不可原谅
你咳吧咳吧
只是不要吐出浓痰
4.
唉，我一直改不了洁癖
受不了爱的人在我面前挖鼻屎，吐痰
可是一个农民的尸体被挖出来
我不停呕吐
却还想触摸
不停涌来的死亡，我轻飘飘的
当然我不会去抓你，阿乐
你的存在不是让我去抓
而是让我拿起刀子就知道
如何去剔
但是还是算了吧
谁都会越来越轻，何况是你
写到这里，突然无语
你睡你的，我坐我的
春天八千里
