本帖最后由 戒指 于 2013-6-18 09:49 编辑
Little Angel
译/铁杆儿
I'm dreaming all day long,
There comes the shaking-garbages,
Coldness pushes an old in shade,
The walking pole
With face like an aged goat,
Wore blue overcoat in patches like oily sky.
A dime comes in sight,
Folded into a soft tiny
That pressed on over and again by the passerbys.
There he stops,
To cover the sin at once;
Hardly rolling it toward his sides,
He takes off cotton gloves,
Holding the piece within dry hand's fading pigment,
Carefully to let it go to the top pocket.
Not often can he hear the laughing dings
Of little ones on roadside picking packed apples
Who are wishful to make gifts to their teachers or friends.
圣诞节
文/梁树春
滴水成冰
迎着白色的太阳向西走的
是一位推着垃圾车的老人
他又高又瘦
脸面像个老山羊
有补丁的蓝色旧大衣沾满油污
地上有张一角钱的纸票
斜对折软软的
不知被行人踩了多少遍
他停住车
先是踩住了这张纸票
又抬起脚把它向自己那边拨了拨
然后摘下棉手套
用长满老年斑的枯干右手拣起来
解开大衣放到上衣的兜里
而这时街边的几位小天使
又说又笑的在选择包装好了的苹果
她们要把圣诞礼物送给老师或者朋友
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发表于 2013-6-18 09:15
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