Past the window, snow blossoms

一回頭，窗外是金色的雪絮

glide down, gilded in hotel neon.

紛落。原來是旅館霓虹映照。

He stares alone in Dengfeng, uncertain why.

他一個人，不知道為什麼在此地看雪。

Should heavy snow stop tomorrow’s festival,

在登封，明天的節慶可能因大雪而終止，

he’ll have to do nothing

他明天的工作可能因大雪而烏有，

but throw the red fur coat across his shoulders

明天的他可能裹紅裘入大雪中

and wade through drifts, tipsy,

醉唱僧謠。「五里外哪——是少林……」

singing like a monk: “Five

li

電話響，那一頭是暗淡的醫院

off—lies Shaolin…”

點滴。原來整個世界已成沙漏，點滴

坍塌又堆起。她一個人在點滴，

The phone rings. The gloomy hospital,

已經第八天，在北京、哈爾濱，又在北京。

the IV drip. The world’s an hourglass, grain by grain

搖晃的藥瓶中，葡萄糖積成了雪，

caving in, piling up. She’s alone,

雪中陰霾，又明亮，有山有水有小路，

eight days already on the drip,

小路上，人佇立。「任那風霜——風霜撲面乾……」

first Beijing, then Harbin, then again Beijing.

The glass bottle tilts, glucose sways like snow.

In snow, there’s shadow, light, mountain, water, and a path.

On the path, someone stands waiting.

“Let the cold wind—the cold wind blow upon a clean face.”