懷念一隻鳥或其他
 
 
 我生命中懷念的一隻鳥
 從冬天穿過
 雙翅就剪下了一場雪
 然而以箭的速度掠過山
 只留下一根紅色的羽毛
 給灰色的天幕插上一面旗子
 
 我必須離開壁爐洞開門扉
 走向人影稀疏的草原
 百鳥過盡
 似乎不留一絲痕跡
 懷念的那只鳥
 卻從深冬穿過
 開始生命中獨自的旅程
 春天仿佛站在羽翅上了
 有花兒在開
 
 我開始愛上結白的雪原
 以懷念童年的純真
 鑿了一尊有關鳥的雕塑
 那只鳥饋贈我的一根紅色羽毛
 在我處女詩集的扉頁
 已飛翔出一種生命的亮點
 
 
 CHERISHING A BIRD OR OTHERS
 
 
 The bird I long for in my life
 Cuts through winter
 Both wings scissoring into a field of snow
 Sweeping across mountains with the speed of an arrow
 Leaving just one red feather
 To drape its flag over the gray sky
 
 I must leave this fireplace, push the door open
 Walk into the field where human shadows are scattered
 All the birds past have flown
 Leaving hardly trace
 The bird I long for
 Somehow cut through this deep winter
 Starting the lonely path of its life
 As if spring stood on its wings
 Flowers opening
 
 I start to fall in love with the white field
 With this longing for the innocence of youth
 Carve out a statue having something to do with birds
 This bird presented me with a piece of red feather
 In the title page of an anthology of women’s poetry I published
 Circling the air with a kind of life light

 (Tr. by Lynn Xu & Hai An)

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 秋天的真理
 
 
 秋天的真理, 是歲月流逝
 往事已經熟透了
 我的眼裏, 還含著盛夏的落日
 
 江山, 日趨成熟
 奔騰咆哮的夏天
 已消失在藍色大海的深深記憶裏
 
 此時舉目遠望
 唯見那行行大雁
 牽動整個風景
 
 那誰也看不見的、歲月的使者，
 正迫使無數山崗和樹林
 迎著來風，裸露出它們血紅的美……
 
 風啊,你就吹進我的身體吧
 卷走我心靈深處──這一季紛飛的落葉
 讓我的心胸, 像這秋天的天空一樣: 萬里無雲
 
 讓我像剛剛割下的一束束稻穗
 躺在廣袤無垠的田野上, 散發今生今世
 這一份淡淡的清香……
 
 THE TRUTH BEHIND AUTUMN
 
 
 The truth behind autumn, is the passage of time
 The past is already ripe
 In my eyes, still filled with the taste of sunsets in summer
 
 The lands, maturing with each passing day
 The surging thunder of summer
 Already disappearing in the deep, deep memory of the blue sea
 
 Now staring off into the distance
 Seeing only the rows and rows of geese
 Affecting the entire landscape
 
 Visible to no one, that envoy of time
 Forcing countless mountains and forests
 To stir up wind, exposing their blood red beauty . . .
 
 Ah wind, just blow inside my body then
 Twisting away in the depths of my spirit—this season’s scattering leaf
 Make of my chest, as the sky of this autumn day: a cloudless expanse
 
 Make of me, as ears from freshly cut rice
 Lying amidst this vast expanse of field, giving off the scent of this life,
 This delicate fragrance . . .
 

 (Tr. by Lynn Xu & Hai An)