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风景：WIND IMAGE
The ox is on my tongue.
---Aeschylus, Agamemnon
光麻木着我的外语：
梦幻的音。
风，呈现着
景：风景
难以解读
缓慢的一月
沿着狭窄的足迹
冰冷的铺开另一年，鸟儿
北飞，雁群
嘁唳，大道上
千万马达
声如闷鼓
爬行于地球
过热的尸体上 - - - 生
与死的先驱，
尊贵朝圣者的语言
践踏沦陷的土地，
伤感的歌声
如迷岸外袅袅的
雾烟
我的元音
依赖着让我清醒的悲哀
拉长或转动
太多已从白日的
交汇里
逃脱
我躺下 一只耳
倾听风的喃喃，
沉默的煽语。不再-
记起那已逝，却仍
可触及的
当我们饮用同样的泉水
或听同一首歌
我不知道灵魂
栖息何处。旧鞋
逐年增大。
如所有的光，文字
迟来，
死亡中的死亡 - - -
风 带着落叶归根。
风景
难以解读：
塔倾倒。
塔耸立。
雪封的门槛
雄鸡兀立
******************************************************
原作：作舟
风景: WIND IMAGE
The ox is on my tongue.
---Aeschylus, Agamemnon
Lights numb my foreign tongue:
ecstatic sound.
风, wind, embodies 景
image: a landscape
difficult to read.
Slow January
coldly unfurls another year
over the narrow trail, birds
flying north, geese cry
profound & the boulevard
with its low drumming
of ten thousands engines
crawling on the overheated
carcass of earth---antecedents
of birth and death,
languages of royal pilgrims
treading the sunken ground,
poignant songs
like smoke rising beyond the misty shore.
My vowels are prolonged
or turned depending on whose sorrow
keeps me awake.
Too much has escape.
from daily crossing.
I lie with one ear open
to the murmurs of wind,
the persuasive sound
of silence. Dis-
remembering those
who are gone, but still
reachable as we drink
from the same fountain
or listen to the same song.
I don’t know where
spirit lives. Old shoes
grow bigger each winter.
Like all lights, words
are late,
more dead than the dead---
风 takes the fallen leaves home.
A landscape
difficult to read:
Towers torn down.
Towers erected.
Rooster on the threshold
snow bound.
z.z. :january '05
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