《这摇摇晃晃的身子》| 双一
不是告别那思念的
就是奔向那思念的
这摇摇晃晃的身子
在修长的思念里穿梭
多像绿皮的火车
一路的茂盛与苍凉
被车窗后的眼睛摄录成
不朽的电影
在不可预期的梦里
或某个沉闷凝滞的午后
重新播放——
破碎了的重新破碎
遗忘了的重新遗忘
丝毫都不顾念
这身子悠悠荡荡
记忆的轨道锈迹斑驳
野草漫过枕木般的肋骨
2018/07/26
This Wobbly Body
by Jacob Yang
Either on the way of leaving what's dear to heart,
or on running towards what it yearns for,
This wobbly body
is very much like an old green passenger train
gliding through the long and narrow nostalgia.
All the splendor and bleakness along the way
are shot by the eyes behind the window
into an eternal movie, which flashes back
unexpectedly in a dream or some sultry afternoon
—what's broken gets broken again,
what's forgotten needs to be forgotten again,
without a tiny bit of care about this tottering body,
whose tracks of memory have been covered with rust,
and ribs of crossties are overgrown with weeds.
