有一年他们命我制作麦子。

One year they ordered me to make wheat.

我只有手臂成熟

Only my arms ripened,

脸上生芒。

wheat heads grew from my face.

又有一年他们命我制造麻绳。

Another year they ordered me to make hemp rope.

有许多时间

For a long time

思想缠绕乱飞。

thoughts twined and scattered.

现在，我坐在天亮前写诗。

Now, I sit before dawn writing poems.

你说我脸色不好。

You say my color’s not good,

得了病了。

that I look sick.

得这病的时候

When I got this illness

你正从国南跑到国北。

you were heading from the south of the country to the north.

你说

You say

你在变轻

you’re getting thin.

我看见，我的病太重

I see my malady is grave

全因为喜欢上

because I fell in love with

从失血时节飘来的

a parachute

一把降落伞。

floating over from the season of blood.

我的所有强劲

All my strengths

全变成下落。

became downfalls.

我写世界

Only when I write about the world

世界才肯垂着头显现。

does it appear, head drooping.

我写你

Only when I write about you

你才摘下眼镜看我。

do you slip off your glasses and look at me.

我写自己时

When I write about myself

看见头发阴郁，应该剪了。

I see my gloomy hair needs a cut.

剪刀能制作

If could make scissors

那才是真正了不起。

that would be splendid.

请你眯一下眼

Please squint for once,

然后别回头地远远走开。

walk away and don’t look back.

我要写诗了

I’m writing poems.

我是

I am

我狭隘房间里

in my narrow room

固执的制作者。

a stubborn maker.