青春如此荒誕

-- fuer Y.Y.

下學期的課尚未開始
五四烈火
未燃
不曾看見妳
從青春瀏海擺渡過來
淺淺笑意覆蓋輕輕哀愁

妳和同學一樣怕冷
背心小外套
課室與課室之間
低溫奔走

總憧憬未來的
眼
偶爾打呵欠連聲老師抱歉
仿彿看過遙遠的妳
孤獨悄悄 擦肩而過
在人群中羞怯等待
善低頭
小的礦泉水瓶
飲水機右邊反複乞憐
泉水慢慢滴落
沒見過妳在大學路上
一整片風景曝光不足
背著書包凝視校車玻璃窗
一隻麻雀
飛過尋找藍天
住知識路 自己的房間
妳的室友不在 那空間沒證人
所在被放逐
這是一生私密時光
沒人掀開
對話的開場
慢動作 衣
物
墜
下
地心引力最初誘惑
正午的艷陽在十四區回教堂禱歌隱約飄揚
十二區聖保羅教堂禮拜剛剛散場鐘聲清脆敲響
一雅典獻祭童女 選擇儀式高度
夏天
青春最盛季節 白花花的大地橫陳
鳥瞰的視野
暈眩
最寂靜的中午
時光遺忘
沒人聽見妳
自由落體 最急迫的角度
孤擲一可能
出口
是否有人抵達﹖

背對天空 沒人聽見
身體拒絕追問

[ 點閱次數：216 ]

Le Journal de Zlata
-Trans. for T, to Tau

-I admit that I know nothing, I no doubt is a “child”, while politics is all about “adults”.Somehow I feel that being “childlike” is better for politics, for we won’t choose to fight…….

When dream and history bleeds
Your pen suck and use it
A journal so thin and tiny
But concentrate the whole universe
Volume so deep

Someone proclaim the truth
With blood with fire
With deadbody overlapped
But you easily found God
In between life and death
At the underground so dark
With four walls

Bullets crash thru and thru the skynight
The stars you belong to
Crash thru the myth the round round moon
Tanke roll over and over the spring soil
Where your footsteps playingful running over
Rolling over the childhood the deadbody of your beloveds
Twisted roads helplessly running over and over
Bursting toward the endless darkness……….

Such an everynight
In the firedrills and screamings and sound of firebombs
A firedragon rush you into the dream
A dreamy dragon erected you
As you wake up you need to face the four cold walls
Layers by layers wrapping the hurt underground
The hurt underground hurt the moan
And so you fiercelessly writing like mad
The hurt floods from the flooding tip of your pen
From every blood vessels, floods…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
From the wet frame of your eyes

If there’re my friends who fall down
No matter they are sierens or muslims
No matter
If the hands holds tight the soil of homeland or
Riffles………
Let alone Your pen suck the blood!
………….
And note down a line and line
The carnival of bloody lines…………………..!!!!!!!!!
If
There is a baby being baptized by the fire of war.
The light of the fire burnt the skin and the eyes first opened
(Ohhhhhhhhhhh……………)
You shall jot down the tao of the beginnings……
Mourning….in the heart burst like mad mourning in the wasted wasteland
Mourning the history of the first man
If there’s a rose not yet blossom but withered…..

A wedding interrupted in a series of war
A series of bullets separated a kisses so refined
You shall note down the falling petals
Note down the falling tears the falling love…
Or the falling body of the lovers

Sometimes you sleep in your own prayers
A kingdom in the dream thus come
So quietly….
Sarajevo is a city of children
All the tank are so small
Like toys
The walls between man and man thus collapsed!
The wall called politics callapsed!!!!!
Spring soil running over the eternal childhood!!
A star spring thru your throne……

When blood and tears are dried off
Civilization and history but left with its dried frame
The thin journal but gradually become bone and flesh
A white dove wave its wings and fly out!

Transformer: Chantelle Tiong

[ 點閱次數：2295 ]