母亲从乡下捎来菠菜一捆
根上带着泥土
这泥土，被我视作礼物的一部分。
也是将要剔除的一部分：
──在乡村，泥土有
更多的用途
可用于自杀，也可用来堵住滚烫的喉咙
甚至可以用来猜谜。
南方丘陵常见的红壤，雨水
从中间剥离出砂粒
母亲仍喜欢在那上面劳作。
它又将长出什么？
我猜得中的终将消失。
我猜不到的，将统治这个乱糟糟的世界
是谁说过“事物之外、别无思想”？
一首诗的荒谬正在于
它变幻不定的容器
藏不住这一捆不能言说的菠菜。
它的青色几乎是
一种抵制──
母亲知道我对世界有着太久的怒气
我转身打电话对母亲说：
“太好吃了”。
“有一种刚出狱的涩味”。
我能看见她在晚餐中的
独饮
菠菜在小酒杯中又将成熟
而这个傍晚将依赖更深的泥土燃尽。
我对匮乏的渴求胜于被填饱的渴求
2012年1月
A Post on Spinach
Mother picked spinach and brought it back from her village
earth still clinging to its roots
I saw this earth as part of the gift.
But it is also a part to be expunged:
─in the village, earth has
many functions
it can be used for suicide, or to stuff a burning throat
It could even be used to guess a riddle
the red soil seen in the Southern hills, raindrops
with sand grains stripped from their core
Mother still likes to labour on it.
What will it grow into?
What I can guess will disappear.
What I can’t guess will take control of this chaotic world
Who said “No ideas but in things”?
The absurdity of a poem lies in
its inconstant vessel
which cannot contain this mute clump of spinach.
Its green is almost
a kind of resistance─
Mother knows I hold grudges against the world too long
I give her a call:
“This is so delicious.”
“It tastes acerbic, like it’s just out of jail.”
I can picture her at dinner
drinking alone
And the spinach in the small wine glass ripening
as dusk depends on the ignition of a deeper vein of loam.
My thirst to be filled yields to my thirst for scarcity
January 2012
Translated from Chinese by Tammy Lai-ming Ho
渺茫的本体
陈先发
每一个缄默物体等着我们
剥离出幽闭其中的呼救声
湖水说不
遂有涟漪
这远非一个假设：当我
跑步至湖边
湖水刚刚形成
当我攀至山顶，在磨得
皮开肉绽的鞋底
六和塔刚刚建成
在塔顶闲坐了几分钟
直射的光线让人恍惚
这恍惚不可说
这一眼望去的水浊舟孤不可说
这一身迟来的大汗不可说
这芭蕉叶上的
漫长空白不可说
我的出现
像宁静江面突然伸出一只手
摇几下就
永远地消失了
这只手不可说
这由即兴物象强制压缩而成的
诗的身体不可说
一切语言尽可废去，在
语言的无限弹性把我的
无数具身体从这一瞬间打捞出来的
生死两茫茫不可说
2016年3月
The Unspeakable Body
Every silent object awaits us
Peeling itself from entrapped screams
The lakewater says no
Followed by the ripples
This is far more than an assumption: When I
Ran to the lake shore
Its water had just formed
When I climbed to the mountaintop, under the
Soles of my shoes that were completely torn
Liuhe Pagoda had just been built
Sitting idle on its top for a while
The light piercing the structure put me in a trance
A trance that’s unspeakable
This lone boat on the turbid water is unspeakable
This latent body of sweat is unspeakable
The long emptiness
Above the banana leaves is unspeakable
My appearance
Is like a hand reaching out of a glass lake
Waving a few times
And disappearing forever
This hand cannot speak
These forcefully compressed improvisations of
Poems’ bodies do not say
All languages are obsolete─in
The infinite elasticity of the language let my
Countless bodies be salvaged in this instant
From between life and death’s unspeakable shores
March 2016
Translated from Chinese by Tammy Lai-ming Ho
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