Crossings

Please walk with me in the moonlight tonight,

Treading on the fragile words in the forest,

Crushing a sound out of them.  Indigo mountains afar

Are moving as our figures are moving.

It’s giving.  I mean the infinite white.

I tell the stone 

About my emerging feather, 

lighter and lighter body,

And about your yearning for sharp beak and nails.

We pass by an overhanging well,

Observe in silent tribute, 

Take out the bones of the well diggers to reconstruct the forest,

Put their skulls on the tree to call out,

 But we don’t stay.

We will see many brutal cuts along the way.

I stroke my old wound, smiling at you, 

Show you a trail of the antecedent footprints 

That leads to the depths.

Before it all begins, I will fold up the cool blue lake surface,

Put it over your shoulder.

We no longer speak of love,

 But rest that word on the withered twigs

To bloom for newcomers.

We will strip off our parts one by one, 

 At last, recall the old house

That has been forgotten in the hometown.

It actually no longer exists.

Yes, we will gradually change into white, 

Then from white to transparent.

We will not know each other, 

But there's still a little time left.

Let's put on the black robes of poets, walking in the moonlight.

202009

Writer: Gu Dao

Translator: LiRong

穿行

今夜请跟我在月光里穿行

踩过林间易碎的词

把它们踩出响声。远山暗影

随我们的身形晃动

它在赐予。我说的是无边的白

我向石头叙述蜂涌的毛，渐渐轻盈的身体

而你渴望长出尖利的喙和指甲

我们经过一口悬空的井

默哀，取出挖井者的骨骼重构树林

把他们的头颅放在树丫上鸣叫但不停留

我们一路上会看到很多残忍的断口

我抚摸身上旧伤向你一笑

指给你一行脚印它先于我们通向深处

一切开始前我将折叠起微凉的蓝色湖面，披在你的肩上

我们不再说爱，只把那个字安放在开败的枝头

向后来者开放

我们一一摘下自己的部件

最后想起了遗忘在故乡的那座老屋

它事实上早已不复存在

是的我们会渐渐变白，再由白变成透明

我们将互不相识但还有一点剩余的时间

让我们披上诗人的黑袍，在月光下穿行

古道

202009