老瓦：诗歌自译：Many Years Afterwards 多年以后

多年以后

过去我们不了解太阳, 那时我们过的是冬天。
―――巴勃罗∙聂鲁达


你透过窗户想我
是梦见那个最短暂的黄昏
很久以后的事了

旧的时光被一寸寸分离
包括那些被记忆忽略的言语
我们所熟悉的潮湿的气息
都在寡言的嘴角边
静静地重温
从久违的暖冬刮起的阳光
定格在那排屋檐低矮的影子旁
将我们沉淀的足迹透视

是多变的心绪搅乱了风景
我们又一次必须面对面
告诉谬斯最初流着泪的晚上
受伤的手以及
夭折于爱情的诗句
黄昏没有能揭示我们的星相
失明的双手还伸向哪里
我们一直谋求的完美借口
是相信厄运随彗星承受了天葬
相信比星相更黯淡的
只有眼神
尽管流经我们的多难的季节
消失得非常完整

你不止一次地肯定过
你终于梦见我
就是距离这个无缘的夜晚
很久以后的事了

Many Years Afterwards

We failed to know the sun in the past,

for it was in the winter we lived

--- Pablo Neruda

That your thought opens to reach for me through the window

has in some ways come about, but long after

your dream of the most ephemeral twilight ever.

The bygone days being shredded to inches,

which includes words and letters overlooked by memory,

and aroma of mugginess so acquainted with us,

now are all swarming around the lips

as to be once again calmly reminisced.

Beams of sunshine recalled by the oddly warm winter are

pausing on silhouette of that bungalow row,

and gazing hard at our footprints that were sunken long ago.

Whimsical feelings were there to crumble what was on mind,

making us yet again to sit face to face

only confess to Muse about the night of first tears,

the wound within hand, as well

as the verse that died premature because of love.

Since no starry night sky was cast for us by the sunset,

where should our blinded hands extend toward?

The just excuse we tirelessly quested,

was to believe the ill fortune, joined with comet and dust,

had all been buried in high cloud,

and the only gloominess murkier than starry night

was the will in your eyes,

even if those traumatic seasons once flowing over us

had altogether vanished into thin air.

There’s more than one moment you’ve attested to

as how you at very end came to dream about me,

though it didn’t go off until many years after