——-当你问我：“你的诗都关于什么？”
无关那些宏大的主题
无关激烈的爱
也不是苦难熬制的汤药
它们只是长日里安静闪烁的光
河沙里隐藏的光
雪粒应和夕照的光
微尘在半空升腾的光
当听到那些细小的光
它们的声音羞怯但清晰
我就知道是时候动笔
就像现在
阳光惺忪的影子攀在窗棂上
我正要回答你的问题。
Answer
—-when you asked me: What are your poems about?”
Not about those grand topics
Not about burning passion
They are not even herbal medicine brewed with suffering
They are just light
Glimmering during the long days, quietly
River sand revealing his hidden color
Snow echoing sunset
Dust glistening and rising in the air
When I hear them, these tiny light
Their voice shy but clear
I’d know it’s time to write
Just as now, this early morning
Sunshine, half woken, crawling on my window
I am about to answer your question
