The land is a crick in the neck. An orange grove burns

土地是颈上一处痉挛。橘园烧起

and it’s sour when you burp. Whose voice is that?

而你打嗝时是酸的。谁的声音？

There’s a fable. There’s a key. Every Ramadan,

一个寓言。一把钥匙。每至斋月，

the artery suffers first. A diet of heavy lamb

动脉首当其冲。油腻羊肉和给检查站

and checkpoint papers. Indigestion like a nightmare.

的文件是日常。消化不良的噩梦。

The Taurus sun burns your forehead. I mean the land.

金牛之阳灼你的前额。我是说，土地。

The land looks white on the MRI images:

磁共振影像上，土地呈白色：

you call your grandfather. He’s been finding the land

你给祖父打电话。他最近在自己粪里

in his stool. His body contours the mattress like a coffin.

看到了土地。他的身体勾勒床垫，如棺。

His hand trembles. When he drinks the land,

他的手发颤。当他饮下土地，

the urine comes out rose-colored.

生成的尿呈玫瑰色。

The land sears the esophagus. No more lemons,

土地灼伤食管。不能再吃柠檬了，

the doctor says. Two pillows at least. In July,

医生说。起码两个枕头。七月，

you lived inside your grandfather like a settlement.

你部落一样住在祖父里面。

You ate currant sorbet from the same cup.

你们从同一个杯子里吃醋栗沙冰。

Did you inherit the land in your arthritic wrist?

你患关节炎的腕是你继承的土地吗？

It makes knitting hell. On the telephone,

它让编织痛苦不堪。电话里，

your grandfather tells you the land is coating his eyes.

祖父告诉你，土地蒙住了他的眼。

He tells you it is worth being alive just to see that blue.

他告诉你，只为见到那蓝，就值得活着。

He dies and they harness his body to the dirt.

他去了，他们将他的身体套在土上。

He dies and the sun is out all week.

他去了，一周都是晴天。