我们是谁

who are we,

虽然这听着像谜语

although this sounds like a riddle,

谁的工作是彻夜徒步

whose work it is to trek all night,

绕着你的眼底

around your eye-grounds,

在路旁

on the roadside,

你白天做的蠢事的残像

where afterimages of the stupid things you do by day,

在我们的足底被扫描和读取

are scanned and read on the soles of our feet,

多末愉悦

such pleasure,

但在眼底深处

but in the depths of the eye-ground,

这也许听着像个蹩脚的双关语

this may sound like a bad pun,

你的痛苦结成一粒粒玛瑙散落路上

your agonies crystallize into pieces of agates that dot the road,

我们拾起来让它们彼此相击

we pick them up and click them against each other,

为了拍下那四散的火花

to photograph the scattering sparks,

寄进你的梦里

and send them to you in dreams,

多末愉悦

what pleasure,

多末令人愉悦啊

what a pleasure,

自然而然地

naturally,

当破晓终于来临

when morning breaks at last,

我们默默离场

we silently withdraw,

这也许听着像个谜语

this may sound like a riddle,

但于你而言

but what are we,

我们究竟是什么呢

for you,