寂地之悼
文/翼华
狼王格林老了，老在草原深处
那座记忆的小木屋前
弥留之际，它拼尽最后力气
向小木屋爬去，爬去
只想再靠近一点，那熟悉的气息
才是皈依的圣地
草原的王者，没有奔向旷野
选择王者的埋骨之处
生命尽头，它只愿挨近
有温度的屋檐下
那里藏着它最珍贵的过往
藏着曾拥它入怀的暖梦
寒风掠过草原，轻轻吹过
像一场漫长的守候
终于抵达终点
有些牵挂，与异类无关
在它守候的屋檐下
那条红丝带
还静静缠绕在脖颈上
2026年2月15日
Elegy for a Silent Land
By Yi Hua
Old grows Green, the wolf king, deep in the grassland,
Before the little wooden hut, where memories remain.
On his last breath, he summons all his strength,
Crawling, crawling toward the hut,
Only to draw nearer, to that familiar scent —
The only sacred place to which his soul is bent.
King of the plains, he does not run to the wild,
Choosing where a king shall lay his bones to rest.
At life’s end, he only longs to stay close,
Beneath a roof that once held warmth and care,
Where his most precious past is safely stored,
Where dreams once held him in a loving embrace.
Cold wind sweeps the grassland, soft and slow,
Like a long, long wait that finally meets its end.
Some bonds of love care not for kind or race.
Beneath the eave he guards until his last breath,
The red silk ribbon still gently tied around his neck,
Quietly, peacefully, remains.
