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稠溪村纪事 子 衿 早发南村乡，去叩稠溪村的门 道路曲折。梅树下，四头拦路之牛 在捍卫乱世堆筑的村寨 神都住在令人犹豫的地方，因此 一棵草在风中独自跳舞 四周之风纹丝不动，芦苇如华盖 山泛白的鬓角。七百年的时间 把环绕村寨的溪水洗得发亮 随手推开的木门，门环 粗粝锈蚀，仿佛高悬木头之上的落日 在这样一个周末，推开的每一扇门 都没有主人。那些桌椅刚刚拉开 就像前一刻，他们还在聊家常 此刻就已离家万里 留给我们的，已经是不堪凭吊的废墟 和一颗感慨时光的心 隐秘的敌人从城市包围而来 而我们能做什么呢？ 除了像匠人一样，用黑白的色调 将一切记录下来，像在记录一座 村庄的事故现场。己亥年十月廿八 五个人来到这里，他们爬了一遍稠溪村的 石板路，拍了一些坚硬的照片 天空很蓝，阳光很白，青苔绵软 我思念的人在远方，和众人一样 选自《诗刊》  Chouxi Village Log by Zi Jin Early morning bus, to knock on the door of Chouxi Village, down a winding road. Four bulls blocked the way under a plum tree as if to defend the old sanctuary built in war time. Gods reside where people falter, just now a lonesome grass dances in the wind when all is quiet and the flowering reeds mask the mountain with white bristles. The circle-village creek flows crystal clean after percolating seven hundred years. I push open a wooden door that has a knocker up high, looking rustic and rusty like a setting sun. On a weekend like this, there is no one behind any door. It seems just moments ago the chairs around the table were pulled out for a chitchat, but now everyone has gone far away, leaving behind a ruin past mourning and a melancholy about the passing of time. City folks sneak up on the village like guerrillas, but what can one do? Black on white may be the only way to go, to record what we see, treating the village like the scene of an accident. On the 28th of October, 2019, five people arrived; they strolled along the stone paths of Chouxi Village, and took some cold hard pictures; the sky was blue; the sun was white; the moss was soft… Like everyone else, the person I miss is far far away. Translated by Duck Yard Lyricists 本诗由 PATHSHARERS BOOKS（美国同道出版社） Duck Yard Lyriists 翻译 |
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