镇魂诗
杨佳娴
不要靠近墙
它在抄写我们的脸
不要走过树下
它会纠缠我们的鞋履
不要相信雨季，那些透明
单调的小石在额头上
击出许多凹痕
水面下一切都平等
且平静
也许我们交换手足，眼睛，
将头发编缠在一起如同连体婴
或者你将生出背鳞
我将发现耳边有腮
在漂忽，逐流的时刻里
醒着也等于睡着
睡着了以后梦见醒来
死去以后仍瞻望云的步伐
把房子盖在最远的岸
灯光瞬逝，椅脚折断陷落
书倒立而园圃
开始种植自己
瓦盆尚未退霜，铁铲有痂，
虫豸如时间贴面而飞
琐碎，且搔痒
有时候也听见诸神翻身微响
当我们终于试着遗忘，啊摊开
如一张虚无的纸
擦过如炭的宇宙
大星升高如军乐手小喇叭上的辉光
当那久远一触，真久远如
一则肯定的箴言
从写出来到被遗忘──
那洋流总是徒劳
一张朽烂的羊皮地图
鱼骨的信物也将销磨为末
而谁能夹蹑出对方的灵魂？
当我们驾驶着单桅帆船
在不同的玻璃瓶内
你有你的手势
我有我的火光
Requiem
Yang Chia-Hsien
Don’t go too close to the wall
it’s copying our faces
Don’t walk under the tree
it’ll tangle with our shoes
Don’t trust the rainy season, those transparent
monotonous pebbles pelting the forehead
with so many dents
Everything below the water is equal
and calm
Perhaps we’ll exchange limbs and eyes
hair braided together like conjoined twins
or you’ll grow scales on your back
I’ll find gills in my ears
In moments of drifting and flowing
waking is the same as sleeping
After falling asleep, I dream that I’m awake
After dying, I still gaze up at the gait of the clouds
building a house on the farthest shore
Lights flicker out, chair legs snap and fall
books stand upside-down, while the garden
starts planting itself
earthen pots not yet free of frost, the shovel scabbed over,
insects band together and fly
as trivial and itching as time
Sometimes I hear the faint sound of gods turning over
when we finally try to forget, oh it unfurls
like a virtual sheet of paper
grazing past the charcoal-like universe
that big star rising like the glow of a military musician’s trumpet
when that far-off touch, as age-old as
a definitive proverb
that’s gone from being written to forgotten—
that ocean current always laboring in vain
a decaying sheepskin map
the fishbone keepsake also ground to dust
Who can be tweezed out of the other party’s soul?
When we sail a single-masted boat
in different glass bottles
you have your hand signals
I have my fire
translated by Jennifer Feeley
此刻荐读
舒婷丨也许路开始已错 结果还是错
宇向丨你以抓阄的方式爱上了我
编辑 | 排版：文煜
