為卓青

for Zhuo Qing

世界下著一夜的雨，

The world rains all night long

這尋常一夜——

this common night—

有人在電視機前消磨著有益的人生，

someone casts away his useful life before the TV,

有人在酒杯裏沉沒、浮起，

someone drifts and sinks in a wine glass,

有人在欲望下捏碎懦弱、鍛造自我。

someone drowns weakness in desire, tempering an ego.

這些並不僅僅是概念，

No mere concepts, you’d agree,

你會同意，世界必須歸類。

the world must be classified.

我想著，仲春天氣，園中的喬木，

I’m thinking of spring weather, trees in the garden,

水草，以及人在岸邊舞蹈。

water plants, couples dancing by the shore.

我們享受過的朗姆酒冰淇淋……

The rum ice-cream we enjoyed.

如果把生活中的傷痛

If I offered you

呈現給你，也許就有變數。

life’s wounds, things might have been different.

但也許不，他人的癒合與你無關。

Or not. To you, others’ healing’s irrelevant.

我遲疑在那個仲春，

That spring I hesitated,

溫暖而黑暗的聚會，啤酒，擁抱，

our genial and dark meeting, beer, embraces,

早晨的口紅，照相機。

lipstick in the morning, camera.

中關村。與愛過的人一起吃午飯。

Zhongguancun. Lunch with a beloved.

猶太史。悶熱的咖啡廳。

Jewish history. Stuffy cafe.

全部的生活細節正在漲潮……

The details of life mounting like a tide.

唯一的一個晚上：

That one night

你爬山歸來，剛剛度過一場危機。

you returned from mountain climbing,

你不是第一個，也不會是最後一個。

just overcoming a crisis.

我堅信：

You were not the first, nor the last,

那一刻我與你同在。

but I believed those moments with you,

那一夜的雨同樣淋濕我。

how the night rain drenched us both.

你意味著不敢想像，

Your sense of it I dare not guess.

鄉村上空的烏鴉是死亡的符號，

Crows in the countryside speak for death,

但未必不祥。

but are not necessarily ominous.

此刻我只能緬懷那隻溫暖的我握過的手。

Now I recall only the hand whose warmth I held.

你成為眾人分享的記憶，

You’ve become a shared memory,

而我此生的工作是對記憶的鐫刻。

my task in this life to engrave.