The Killing Time
by J. Mae Barizo
死亡时刻
A hindsight of blood.
带着血的教训
The sill with its speck of ash: who smoked
门槛上摆着烟灰缸,谁坐在那
there? Tea on the lip as
抽烟?啜茶的唇
a forgetting of another endeavor.
像是努力在遗忘
Red: aligning quietly on the eaves
红色在屋檐上悄悄地密集
or beneath the skin: articulate, articulate.
在皮肤下:吧嗒,吧嗒。
The dream of the wheel, bird
梦之轮,鸟
sounds, red of the hip
鸣,鲜红的鸟臀
like a wrist corsage.
像一朵胸花
~
Snow under the hand, a different kind of muteness.
雪在手下,有着难言之隐
Something you once belonged to, the lines smudged.
曾经属于你的,已被玷污。
In the other memory the severed arm speaks.
断掌在诉说着一些记忆
In the other memory it is as silent as snow.
记忆像无声无息的雪
~
In the transient form
在这短暂的形态里
everything subject to question.
一切都将遭受质疑
A tilt, a bruise.
攻讦,受创
Later on, the killing time.
然后,是死亡时刻
~
Next to your eye, a door.
紧挨着眼的,是门
Next to your door, a vestibule.
紧挨着门的,是廊
Next to your vestibule, it opens.
紧挨着廊的,是永远的敞开。
Now give me your mouth—
现在请把你的唇给我——
~
In the study of distance
而那些有着距离的
everything meets the eye
一切在眼中交汇
as pool blue.
像蓝色的湖泊。
A cool light, undecided, comes
冷色的光,飘渺不定,翻山
over the mountain.
越岭。
The cloudswift sky unbuttons.
云扣解开。
Everything remembers everything.
一切记得一切。 |