To My Father/To My Future Son
The stars are not hereditary
Emily Dickinson
There was a door & then a door
surrounded by a forest
Look, my eyes are not
your eyes
You move through me like rain
heard from another country
Yes, you have a country
Someday, they will find it
while searching for lost ships………..
Once, I fell in love
during a slow-motion car crash
We looked so peaceful, the cigarette floating from his lips
as our head whiplashed back
into the dream & all was forgiven
Because what you heard, or will hear, is true : I wrote
a better hour onto the page
& watched the fire take it back
Something was always burning
Do you understand? I closed my mouth
but could still taste the ash
because my eyes were open
From men, I learned to praise the thickness of walls
From women, I learned to praise
If you are given my body, put it down
If you are given anything
be sure to leave no tracks in the snow
Know that I never chose
which way the seasons turned
That it was always October in my throat
&you : every leaf refusing to rust
Quick. Can you see the red dark shifting?
This means I am touching you. This means
you are not alone – even as you are not
If you get there before me, if you think
of nothing and my face appears rippling
like a torn flag – turn back
Turn back & find the book I left for us
filled with all the colours of the sky
forgotten by gravediggers
Use it. Use it to prove how the stars
were always what we knew they were
The exit wounds of every misfired word
写给父亲及未来的儿子
星空并非世袭的
Emily Dickinson
那是一扇门和一扇
森林环绕的门
你看,我的眼睛不是你的
你忽视我的存在
洒过像一场异乡的大雨
是的,你拥有自己的地域
有一天,在寻踪迷失的船只时
他们会抵达那个地方
在一场慢镜头般的撞车肇事中
我曾经找到真爱
我们是那么地镇静,烟灰从他的嘴唇弹飞
当头颅如挥鞭甩后回到那场
梦境时,一切已被原谅
因为你听过的或将听到的都是真实的:我把
一段美好的时光写在书页上
却又看着火焰把它焚蚀
一些东西永无止尽地燃烧
你懂吗?我紧闭嘴唇
但依旧尝到灰烬的味道
因为我睁开着双眼
从那些男人,我学会了赞美墙壁的厚度
从那些女人,我学会如何赞美
如果他们给你我的遗体,那就放下
如果他们给你任何东西
那就确定在雪地上不留下任何痕迹
你晓得我是不会选择
季节嬗递的方向
因为十月时常卡住喉底
还有你:拒绝霉锈的每一片叶子
快点。你没看见鲜红的黑暗在迁动吗?
这显示我正触摸你。显示
你不会独自而孤单 – 即使你并非如此
如果你在我之前抵达那个地点,如果
你一丝感觉也没有而我的脸
褶皱如破裂的旗帜 – 那就回头吧
回去寻觅我为你我留弃的那本书
它布满着所有已被掘墓者
遗忘的各种天色
利用它。利用它来举证那些繁星
确是我们所明了的繁星一样
在每一句失言的创伤找到出口