来到床沿,颤抖的手指滑落
断开的连脉,错落杂乱的碎片
拚接、焊补着2023年疼痛的冬天
身披今生的恩情,隔空呐喊
父亲,我的父亲…
如烙印,如扑面的春风
不知来世,是否还能辩认出我们今生
的过往和朝夕相守?
写于2023.12.12
感谢简友Hellen Jin的翻译
To My Dearest Father
Coming to the edge of the bed,
trembling fingers slided and the bloodline seems broken ,
scattered and messy fragments patching together,
welding and repairing the painful winter of 2023.
Wearing the grace of this life,
I cry out from the sky to my father, my father...
Like imprints, like the gentle spring breeze,
I don't know the afterlife.
Can we still recognize our past and our commitment to this life day and night?
December 12, 2023