一枚穿過天空的釘子
 
 
 一直為帽子所遮蔽　直到有一天
 帽子腐爛　落下　它才從牆壁上突出
 那個多年之前　把它敲進牆壁的動作
 似乎剛剛停止　微小而靜止的金屬
 露在牆壁上的禿頂正穿過陽光
 進入它從未具備的鋒利
 在那裏　它不只穿過陽光
 也穿過房間和它的天空
 它從實在的　深的一面　
 用禿頂　向空的　淺的一面　刺進
 這種進入和天空多麼吻合
 和簡單的心多麼吻合
 一枚穿過天空的釘子
 像一位剛剛登基的君王
 鋒利　遼闊　光芒四射
 
 
 THE NAIL THAT PIERCES THE SKY
 
 
 shielded at all times by a hat  it never
 stands out from the wall  until the hat begins to rot  and falls
 many years ago  the movement which had knocked it into the wall
 seemingly ended just now  a minuscule and silent shard of metal
 exposed on the wall, its bald head penetrating the sunlight
 entering into keenness it had never previously possessed
 there it not only penetrated sunlight
 but also pierced the room and its sky
 the concrete nail thrusts deeply
 with its bald head  from the factual deep side
 it stabbed  toward the empty side  the shallow side
 this kind of entry coincides so well with the sky
 and tallies so well with the ordinary heart
 the nail that pierces the sky
 sharp  expansive  its radiance shoots in all directions
 as a monarch who has just ascended the throng

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 河  流
 
 
 在我故鄉的高山中有許多河流
 它們在很深的峽谷中流過
 它們很少看見天空
 在那些河面上沒有高揚的巨帆
 也沒有船歌引來大群的江鷗
 要翻過千山萬嶺
 你才聽得見那河的聲音
 要乘著大樹紮成的木筏
 你才敢在那波濤上航行
 有些地帶永遠沒有人會知道
 那裏的自由只屬於鷹
 河水在雨季是粗暴的
 高原的大風把巨石推下山谷
 泥巴把河流染紅
 真像是大山流出來的血液
 只有在寧靜中
 人才看見高原鼓起的血管
 住在河兩岸的人
 也許永遠都不會見面
 但你走到我故鄉的任何一個地方
 都會聽見人們談論這些河
 就像談到他們的上帝

 
 RIVERS
 
 
 there are many rivers in the mountains where I grew up
 in deep gorges they flow
 they rarely catch a glimpse of sky
 there are no expansive sails hoisted high over their surfaces
 nor huge flocks of river gulls drawn on by boat-songs
 it’s only when you’ve climbed endless ridges and hills
 that you hear this river sound
 it’s only on rafts made of great tree-trunks lashed together
 that you dare ride upon these waves
 some areas will stay forever unknown to humankind
 the freedom of those places belongs to the eagles alone
 in the rainy season the waters turn brutal
 gale winds on the high plateau push boulders down into valleys
 mud dyes the rivers red
 as if the mountains were actually bleeding
 only when it’s calm
 do you see the plateau’s bulging veins
 those people who live on either side of these rivers
 may never come to know of one another’s existence
 but wherever you go in the place I grew up in
 you will here people talking about these rivers
 as if discussing their gods

 (Tr. by Simon Patton)