在夜航飞机上看见海

　　什么都变小了
　　只有海把黑夜的皮衣
　　越铺越开
　　
　　向北飞行
　　右下方见到天津
　　左下方见到北京
　　左右俯看两团飞蛾扑着火
　　
　　这时候东海突然动了
　　风带起不能再碎的银片
　　又密又多的皱纹抽起来

　　我看见了海的脸
　　我看见苍老的海岸
　　哆哆嗦嗦把人间抱得太紧了
　　
　　我见过死去
　　没见过死了的又这样活过来


Seeing the Ocean from a Night Flight

Everything becomes small
only the ocean makes the night’s leather clothes
open up the further out it spreads.

Flying north
to the right is Tianjin
to the left is Beijing
two clusters of moths flinging themselves at fire.

Then the East China Sea suddenly moves
the wind brings silver bits that couldn’t be more shattered
and many thick wrinkles whip up

I see the face of the ocean
I see the aged seashore
trembling and hugging the world too tightly.

I have seen death before
but never before seen the dead come back to life.

                                                                                                   2.2004


从北京一直沉默到广州

总要有一个人保持清醒
总要有人了解
火车怎么样才肯从北京跑到广州

这么远的路程
足够穿越五个小国
惊醒五座花园里发呆的总督
但是中国的火车
像个闷着头钻进玉米地的农民

这么远的路程
书生骑在驴背上
读破多少卷凄凉的诗书
火车顶着金黄的铜铁
停一站叹一声

有人沿着铁路白花花出殡
空荡的荷塘坐收纸钱
更多的人快乐地追着汽笛进城

在中国的火车上
我什么也不说
人到了北京西就听见广州的芭蕉
扑扑落叶
车近广州东
信号灯已经裹着丧衣沉入海底

我乘坐着另外的滚滚力量
一年一年南北穿越
火车不可能靠火焰推进。


Silent All the Way from Beijing to Guangzhou

There must be someone who stays awake.
There must be someone who understands
only then will the train agree to run
                                           from Beijing to Guangzhou.

Such a long journey
enough to cut across five small countries
to startle awake five governors dozing in their gardens.
But a Chinese train
is like a peasant with his head stuffed into an ear of corn.

Such a long journey
a scholar riding on the back of a donkey
could read many dreary volumes of the classics.
The golden copper iron on top of the train
sighs at every stop.

Along the tracks people form a bright white
                                                   funeral procession
a deserted lotus pond turns a profit on the paper money.
More people happily follow the steam whistle into town.

On Chinese trains
I don’t say a thing
At Beijing West people hear the Guangzhou banana trees
shake off their leaves.
As the train nears Guangzhou East
the signals were wrapped in mourning clothes to
                                                       sink to the seafloor.

I am riding some other rolling power
year after year crossing north and south
trains can’t run just on fire.


                                                                                                   4.2003