涉其淺兮,石齧我足;乘其深兮,龍入我舟。
Ford shallow streams, stones bruise my feet.
——韓愈〈琴操:將歸操〉
Cross deep water, dragons share my skiff.
—Han Yu (Qin Melody: The Return)
其三
3
高處看見浮雲來往蹉跎,一面反光的
Clouds flow by, catching light
鏡子,戰爭年代棄置無人的樓層
while here in this building
遠道跋涉的蜘蛛偶然升登,瑣碎結網
abandoned since the war
紋路宛轉溫柔似水鄉,細聲提示
a spider climbs high
屬於我們可意會的秘密
on its weavings, fine strands
終於完成:暮色裏以果樹開花的旋律
webbed like waterways
渲染,全力敷衍其榮華假象
in a canal town, as if threading
如眾神無情來去隨興聚散,直北
a secret music we might hear.
極光反射在高處懸掛的鏡子上
Dusk’s own tones, these fruit tree blooms,
swell their false flourishings,
其四
sunset a shimmer of unfeeling gods
who come and go.
再一次自風雨聲中醒來,破碎的黎明
將我竦動擲回深陷,無夢的淵藪
4
浮沉不安的水域:荷芰紛紛擱淺
By wind and rain once more
一些稀薄的符號,象徵,和圖騰——
awakened, I sink in a shattering dawn
昔時憑藉以互通音訊,抱怨或控訴的
to dreamless depths, unsettled water
線路,失聯的神經支配著殘餘
rising and falling, lotuses floating shoreward
的意識生與死,而我甚至知道
like frail totems of the past, old letters
更遠的天邊還有少數虧損的星
complaining, accusing, lost filaments
即將應聲墜落水底,廣闊的平野
to whatever mind still lives.
為受傷的魚和掩翅息蹄的禽獸點燈
Fading stars must soon
一些狹仄轉折,誤導的途徑
be swallowed by the sea,
the world’s wilderness lit
其五
for wounded fish,
wing-shut birds, beasts whose hooves
你難道不曾因為天籟略無形跡
have finally come to rest
而困頓長夜,側耳追尋?若不是關於
amid so many twists, so many turns.
洪荒前期早已傳達到位的故事
蟲豸和魚白孵化的寓言,可能
5
可能就是一種切身的宣示斷定我們
Have you ever sought
也將先後老去如帶翅飛天的恐龍
on sleepless nights
扶搖直上,舂容迴響,輒遭遇龐大
the faintest rustlings of the stars?
繼起的空虛;抑或以絕對的冥默內省
Before we came, the insects hatched,
如單獨穿行廢墟的兵士,因為悔恨
the fish, a tale that tells how we shall age
低頭無由看見春花在前路抽長
like dinosaurs who also walked
在斷垣盡頭,甚至當溫暖的雨水準時
and flew trumpeting toward their own absence.
下降,在泥濘深深的古戰場
We too might choose to reflect,
striding a ruined landscape
其七
like a downcast soldier
beyond tumbled city walls
這不足為奇你手拈一朵無色的
spots spring blossoms
花面向晚霞似乎有話對我說——
opening on the road ahead,
何其驚異的神情:可以想像
feels the arrival of warm rains
是暗指夜來螢火嘯聚人必有一件心事
to quench the ancient battlefield.
秋葉在接近點零的霧中
逆向回旋,激流撞擊有聲
7
帶走漩渦上方的影
No surprise you’d pluck a bloodless flower,
your face aglow at evening
as if to speak—that look of amazement
at the ascent of fireflies—
one’s heart must grow heavy
with autumn leaves adrift
through an impenetrable fog,
somewhere a torrent
sweeping off these shadows.