Winter Letter
To Ma Hua
That lamp did not turn off after dark. At midnight
father asked me over the wall, why not sleeping?
I choked, can’t fall asleep. Sometimes,
I see him sitting in the middle of the room, tears
rolling down on sides of his nose. The day before yesterday,
he remembered having had a haircut. Our lives
should get somewhat better, carrots are now in season.
She glared while panting, no longer felt anger,
the day you wrote me was the day before she passed away.
Lately I have been more diligent at work, my evaluation
has improved, maybe I’ll get a raise,
when you come, I’ll take you to the river.
Summer evenings, I’m often there alone,
walking, and even in the night shades cannot think of you.
“The moon rises over Tian Shan,
moves through an expansive sea of clouds”*,
this quiets me, to have energy to face the emptiness
with open arms. Between you, and me is
a barren long winter. When I’m not here,
you can chop wood, water vegetables, arrange
diaries written a month ago. When you’re not here,
I read Gide over and over, fingertips frozen,
stare blankly at the dusted desk.
Those steep mountains in the cold dry air,
are they also like us, calm and without pain?
*Lines from Li Bai’s Poem “Guan Shan Yue.”
冬天的信
给马骅
那盏灯入夜就没有熄过。半夜里
父亲隔墙问我，怎么还不睡？
我哽咽着：“睡不着”。有时候，
我看见他坐在屋子中间，眼泪
顺着鼻子边滚下来。前天，
他尚记得理了发。我们的生活
总会好一点吧，胡萝卜已经上市。
她瞪着眼睛喘息，也不再生气，
你给我写信正是她去世的前一天。
这一阵我上班勤快了些，考评
好一些了，也许能加点工资，
等你来的时候，我带你去河边。
夏天晚上，我常一人在那里
走路，夜色里也并不能想起你。
“明月出天山，苍茫云海间”，
这让人安详，有力气对着虚空
伸开手臂。你、我之间隔着
空漠漫长的冬天。我不在时，
你就劈柴、浇菜地，整理
一个月前的日记。你不在时，
我一遍一遍读纪德，指尖冰凉，
对着蒙了灰尘的书桌发呆。
那些陡峭的山在寒冷干燥的空气里
也像我们这样，平静而不痛苦吗？
Night, Florescent Lamps Shine on These People
Night, florescent lamps shine on these people,
the same lamps also shine in the morgue.
In the morgue lie our old acquaintances,
having now been removed from the household register
those acquaintances. They for human (or they for non-human?)
twitch on the table, and you would
scream, pound your meager heads against the glass.
I want to open my eyes and watch them,
watch them under the burial sheets stretch
their limbs, even just one finger bone.
I love the cruel white light beamed onto the green wainscot,
love the corpse after corpse floating midair.
When they hesitantly feel around, and touch
my face. Touch again, my dear.
You should give me a little more,
come forward, I’m here waiting.
My dear, my dear.
晚上，日光灯照着这些人
晚上，日光灯照着这些人，
同样的灯也照在停尸间。
停尸间里躺着我们的老熟人，
现在已经从户口册上删除掉了
那些人。他们（还是它们？）
在尸床上一动，你们就要
大叫，拿菲薄的脑壳撞玻璃。
我想睁大眼睛看看他们，
看他们在白尸布下面活动
活动筋骨，一小节指骨也好。
我爱这惨白的光打在绿墙裙上，
爱这一条条空中悬浮的尸体。
当它们犹疑着试探，摸了
我的脸。再摸一下吧，亲爱的。
你们应该再多给我一些，
迎上来吧，我在这里等着。
亲爱的，亲爱的。