Sunday, March 15, 2009

Poetry by Ma Lan: For Him, No. 6 给他之六

For Him, No. 6

I walk to the west and describe a circle
Who can say if I'm coming back or going back
But why am I here
At morning's open incision
Striking a stone with an egg
Vainly hoping the old horse knows the way

However at some normal times
Times I am in love
I grasp the color of flesh
Covered with fresh blood like a newly laid egg
Perfect and fresh
Rolls toward the horizon like a sleepy lily
If it is certain that birds are things that can fly
The flight of desire will surely always be in the heart
Then I shall be an enormous skin following wings into dance the speed of flight
With the sorrow and fragrance of a tattered sheet of silk
Nibbling fermented bean curd
I understand that my infatuation with decadence goes way back
And even let a fossilized egg deep inside me
Riding the void like this never amounts to being finished
Dying together like this is a way out.



给他之六



我向西而行绕着园圈
回来或者回去谁说的清楚
可我为什么在这里
在早晨的刀口上
以卵击石
妄想老马识途

如果肯定鸟一定会飞
那我分明是张巨大的包皮
包裹女人破碎的香气和忧伤
随翼高速起舞

我恋爱的时候
掌握着皮肤的颜色

我明白我对腐败生活的迷恋
由来已久
任凭一枚石化的蛋
深入自己 ,乘虚而行
这还不算完
在傍晚的嘴边
同归于尽 这才是唯一的
出路

(1996,8)

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