The Rain in November
By Cheng Lie
For my father-in-law
It's like the sum of cold, the rain in November,
sadly touching thousands of winters, depressedly
throwing frost to death and loneliness,
and in an instant, stood in the strange midst of the world
to grasp the meaning of fate with a white flower.
On the sloping ground, in a courtyard house
the long shadow of a tree, as if the hermit behind the mirror
on the last night, it recounted goodbye
the moment of turning out of the hustle and bustle
the leaves were falling and returning to worldly dust.
This oblivion is attractive from the dead
it's like an invisible hourglass in desire
all prophecies come from the god of creation,
who configures the game of life and death
for the upcoming journey.
There is a blue night with the moon
staring at the most mature moment from the blind,
in the golden sewage ditch
moonlit slowly flows through the quiet place
to pick everything in a dreamland.
2016/ translated by Chen Zihong
十一月的雨
程烈
为我的岳父
十一月的雨有如寒冷的总和，
黯然无声地触及一千个冬天，雨水
把霜雾投向一场死亡和孤独，
然后在一个瞬间，站在世界的陌生当中
用一朵白花理解宿命。
坡地上，在四方形建筑当中
一棵树伸得远远的影子仿佛镜中的隐士
在最后的夜里，它在说告别
在退出喧嚣转身的瞬间
繁叶纷落，入土还俗。
这遗忘是死者的美
它好像欲望中看不见的沙漏
所有预言均来自造物之神，
为即将到来的远行
布下生与死的棋局。
明月之上有蓝色的夜
凝视着失明者最成熟的那一刻，
金色的污水河里
月光缓慢流过静寂之地
将梦境中的一切采撷。
2016年
