▋盲人
诗/ 阳子


他歌唱，声音是血管内流动的颜色
有风在晨光中送来食粮
一片翠绿色停止蠕动
光进来了，光又出去了

盲人开始奔跑
沿着一条精神的裂缝跑
在沙砾与猎豹之间
在空荡的询问中间
他掏出肋骨
身体越来越轻
飞快接近黎明前寂静的墓园

一只乌鸦带来钥匙
那是一把盲人看得见的凶器
他用它询问：
一小份想象的工作
包括这世上的一切
烟云，吃进肚子里的光
还有黑暗的秩序
插着旗帜猎猎燃烧


The Blind Man
Poem/ Yang Zi


He sings, and his voice is the color that flows through his veins
There's a wind that sends food in the morning light
An emerald green that stopped squirming
The light comes in and the light goes out

The blind man begins to run along a spiritual chasm
Between the gravel and the cheetah
In the middle of an empty inquiry
He pulls
The body is getting lighter
Fast approaching the silent pre-dawn cemetery

A raven brings the key
It's a weapon that a blind man can see
He used it to ask
A little imaginary job
Everything in this world
Smoke clouds, eat the light in your stomach
And the dark order
Burning with flags on the ground

译者/梵君


▋一只抽屉
诗/阳子


一只抽屉用来装曾经的涨潮之声
你时时听到它的荡气回肠
回声锻打一根肋骨
身体里隐秘作痛
你当它是嵌入血肉的一块小石头

曾经的海上蹲着撕咬目光的迷雾
桅杆顶挂满写给上帝的信笺
你当这只抽屉是兄弟的时候
曾经的故事，开始被点燃

昏暗燃烧起来
取暖的人来自四面八方
苦难的话讲了一遍又一遍
直到潮湿也喷溅火星

血液烧旺了
你就躲进抽屉
有人扛着大旗在外面日夜飘摇
远处旷野里有风掠过
回声一样荡气回肠



A drawer
Poem/Yang Zi

A drawer for what was once the sound of the rising tide.
You hear it all the time.
Echo forged a rib.
The body aches insidiously.
You think it's a small stone embedded in flesh and blood.

Once the sea crouched to bite the mists of the gaze.
The top of the mast is filled with letterheads written to God.
When you think this drawer is a brother.
The story that once was, is beginning to ignite.

Faintly burning.
People come from all over the place to keep warm.
The hard words were said over and over again.
Until the moisture also spews sparks.

The blood is burning up.
You just hide in the drawer.
There are people out there flying day and night with big flags.
In the wilderness in the distance, the wind was blowing.
Resonate like an echo

译者/梵君

▋盲人
诗/ 阳子


他歌唱，声音是血管内流动的颜色
有风在晨光中送来食粮
一片翠绿色停止蠕动
光进来了，光又出去了

盲人开始奔跑
沿着一条精神的裂缝跑
在沙砾与猎豹之间
在空荡的询问中间
他掏出肋骨
身体越来越轻
飞快接近黎明前寂静的墓园

一只乌鸦带来钥匙
那是一把盲人看得见的凶器
他用它询问：
一小份想象的工作
包括这世上的一切
烟云，吃进肚子里的光
还有黑暗的秩序
插着旗帜猎猎燃烧


The Blind Man
Poem/ Yang Zi


He sings, and his voice is the color that flows through his veins
There's a wind that sends food in the morning light
An emerald green that stopped squirming
The light comes in and the light goes out

The blind man begins to run along a spiritual chasm
Between the gravel and the cheetah
In the middle of an empty inquiry
He pulls
The body is getting lighter
Fast approaching the silent pre-dawn cemetery

A raven brings the key
It's a weapon that a blind man can see
He used it to ask
A little imaginary job
Everything in this world
Smoke clouds, eat the light in your stomach
And the dark order
Burning with flags on the ground

译者/梵君


▋一只抽屉
诗/阳子


一只抽屉用来装曾经的涨潮之声
你时时听到它的荡气回肠
回声锻打一根肋骨
身体里隐秘作痛
你当它是嵌入血肉的一块小石头

曾经的海上蹲着撕咬目光的迷雾
桅杆顶挂满写给上帝的信笺
你当这只抽屉是兄弟的时候
曾经的故事，开始被点燃

昏暗燃烧起来
取暖的人来自四面八方
苦难的话讲了一遍又一遍
直到潮湿也喷溅火星

血液烧旺了
你就躲进抽屉
有人扛着大旗在外面日夜飘摇
远处旷野里有风掠过
回声一样荡气回肠



A drawer
Poem/Yang Zi

A drawer for what was once the sound of the rising tide.
You hear it all the time.
Echo forged a rib.
The body aches insidiously.
You think it's a small stone embedded in flesh and blood.

Once the sea crouched to bite the mists of the gaze.
The top of the mast is filled with letterheads written to God.
When you think this drawer is a brother.
The story that once was, is beginning to ignite.

Faintly burning.
People come from all over the place to keep warm.
The hard words were said over and over again.
Until the moisture also spews sparks.

The blood is burning up.
You just hide in the drawer.
There are people out there flying day and night with big flags.
In the wilderness in the distance, the wind was blowing.
Resonate like an echo

译者/梵君