西西 | Xi Xi
玻璃
打開門
河水就在門外
墻粉
簌簌地
掉進水裏
巷尾的拱橋
比去年
更矮
幾處白露臺
仍栽滿輕艷的盆花
墨綠色的木百葉窗
半開半閉
是午睡的時候
一艘貢都拉搖過
沒有歌
他們自玻璃廠歸來
說起
草莓紅的玻璃透明
風信子藍的薄
我衹說
我想我看見
威尼西亞
一點一點地
變作一片玻璃
GLASS
Open the door
right onto the canal,
the old wall’s whitewash
light as snow
drifting to the water.
The bridge arched at the end of the alley
seems lower
than last year.
A few white balconies
still speckled bright with flowers.
The ink-green shutters
half open, half closed
for the siesta.
A gondola rocks by
without song
They come back from the glass factory,
saying how transparent
the strawberry-red glass,
how thin the hyacinth blue.
I only say
I think I see
Venezia,
little by little,
becoming a sheet of glass.
trans. © Diana Shi & George O’Connell
more by Xi Xi
泰山下 | At the Foot of Mount Tai
對岸來的人 | One from the Other Shore
