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by Ya Shi, translated from the Chinese by Nick Admussen
暮年，一位修士回忆起神圣的对欲望的压抑
穷尽所有可能，时光能给并愿意给的
也许只是个巴掌大小的花园。
露珠。花梗。棋盘的眼睛。
银河深喉至无辜，地流恢复初涌的干净——
幻象，正努力夺回最后的呼吸！
现实准备消音一切：文学，挑逗着细节，
托尔裤腰带上晃荡的小纳粹，金色瀑布的谦逊……
IN OLD AGE, A MONK REMEMBERS HIS DIVINE SUPPRESSION OF DESIRES Exhausting all possibility, what time is able and willing to give
is perhaps just a garden the size of the palm of a hand.
Pearls of dew. Flower stems. A chessboard's eyes.
The Milky Way is so deep that it is innocent, deep springs regain the clean of their first bubbling —
Illusion, I am trying so hard to snatch my last breath back!
Reality is preparing to silence everything: literature, tantalizing detail，
the little Nazi hanging from Thor's belt, a golden waterfall's humility... 疾鸟
疾鸟飞得再快，也解不开这数学题。
我在长风鼓荡的山巅
望见疾鸟；在一张白生生的纸上
摊开城区，摊开乌云
摊开幸存于古老战火的数学题——
且让沉陷，灰烬伴随清凉天雨！
INFECTED BIRD
No matter how fast a sick bird flies, it can't solve this math problem.
I am at the summit where the wind swells
looking down at an infected bird; on a blinding white sheet of paper
the town's districts unfold, the dark clouds unfold
the math problem that survived the ancient massacre unfolds —
it still engrosses, the ashes followed by clean, cool rain!
一个流亡诗人对着无形的乡愁自言自语
放心吧，我手上没有对你不利的证据。
譬如，窃自那梦境的乌云，
头脑里放电的色情小岛……
或者，你年轻时，晾于粗铁丝的
长麻裤，那膝头处，有个耀眼的破洞……
长裤滴着水，远处的大海凝固。
我有的，也不一定能说出——
都是些无用的、虚无的坚果，词屑的珍珠！
AN EXILED POET ADDRESSES HIS OWN FORMLESS NOSTALGIA
Don't worry. I've got no evidence here that can harm you.
For example, a black cloud pilfered from that dreamscape,
the little erotic island in the brain firing its electrical charge...
or, you in your youth, hanging your hempen pants
on a long iron wire, and through a hole in the knee, sunlight glares...
The long pants dripping water, the distant ocean freezing.
What I possess, I cannot with certainty say —
they're all useless, unreal kernels, pearls of crumbs of words!
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