雨已下了一夜，雨中人難眠

Rain through the night, hard to sleep,

雨帶來了盛夏的第一陣涼意

but the first cool breath all summer, 

雨仍在下，從屋簷下傾下

pouring from the eaves, 

從石階上濺起，從木頭門縫裏朝裏漫溢

splattering the front steps,

seeping past the threshold.

向日葵的光輝在雨中熄滅

鐵在雨中腐爛

Rain drowns the sunflower’s blaze, 

小蛤蟆在雨中的門口接連出現

wastes wrought iron to rust. 

而我聽著這雨

Little toads appear 

在這個灰濛濛的低垂的早晨

one and another,

在這座昏暗、清涼的屋子裏

hopping by the door.

在我的身體裏，一個人在嘩嘩的雨聲中

出走

I listen to the rain 

一路向南

in a low, gray dawn 

in a cool, dim room.

向南，是雨霧籠罩的北京，是貧困的早年

The man inside me 

是雨中槐花煥發的清香

takes the rainbeaten road

是在風雨中驟然敞開的一扇窗戶

straight south.

是另一個裹著舊雨衣的人，在胡同口永遠消失

（下水道的水聲仍響徹不息）

South lies Beijing, shrouded in mist, those years 

是受阻的車流，是絕望的雨刮器

of poverty, its balm wafting 

在傾盆大雨中來回晃動

from flowering pagoda trees, the latched window

banging open in storms, someone wrapped 

就在一個人死後多年，雨下下來了

in an old raincoat vanishing forever 

at the end of an alley. Drains awash,

雨潑濺在你的屋頂上，雨

stalled cars on the road in the downpour, 

將你的凝望再一次打入泥土

the useless sweep of their wipers.

雨中，那棵開滿沉重花朵的木槿劇烈地搖晃

那曾盛滿夏日光輝的屋子

Rain never falls 

在雨中變暗

until one’s dead 

many years.

每年都會有雷聲從山頭上響起

每年都有這樣的雨聲來到我們中間

Rain hammers your roof 

每天都有人在我們之中死亡

and drives your gaze to ground. 

Hibiscus, laden with blooms,

雨中的石頭長出了青苔

sway heavily.

The room once bathed in summer glow

glooms in the rain.

Each year thunder booms from the mountaintops.

Each year the sound of rain enters our bodies. 

Each day some of us die.

In rain the stones sprout moss.