李琬：零度（中/英）

零度 | 李琬 朗诵：李琬 我们送走一些死， 风却吹来太多无用之物。 远人和疾病，从陌生短信中 打听昨日。那是夏季，水的视力 还未变暗，我们刚上岸 烟草就变得潮湿，拯救被诘问的友谊。 而现在，你翻阅缺页的旧报刊， 仿佛减去了几分遗忘的艰辛。 你钻进大衣，用一颗纽扣缓释 傍晚七点钟的气温。 杂乱的自行车，像失去主人的思想 等待你灰色的辨认。 想想他，他们，还有历史的口吃。 风假装看不见我们的限度， 高处落满了枯萎，和虚荣。 多年后，这城市的夜晚 竟仍然像一段被慢慢翻译的疯狂…… 你感到必须拉上窗帘，提前消失。 短暂的真理从脱脂牛奶中溢出， 不过是为了让你继续写下 每一个健康的字，这最轻的罪行 令冬天颤抖。这时，窗外的光线开始 在一小块脏冰上呼喊，像寻找离开的方式。 2014.12.4 zero degrees Translated by Stephen Nashef We see off the dead, and yet trivialities blow in the wind; text messages – old friend, disease – asking about yesterday. Yesterday was summer. Water’s cool gaze not yet dimmed to black. We’d just climbed onto the bank, tobacco wet through, and our other-times scrutinised friendships saved. And now, flicking through dull periodicals, missing a few pages, you seem to have shed some of the pain of forgetting. You settle deep into your coat and do up a button to drive out this wintry evening’s 7pm chill, as a disarray of bicycles, scattered like thoughts dispossessed of a master, awaits your grey recognition. Think of him, them, the way history stutters. The wind pretends not to notice our limits, up there, where dead leaves and vanity gather like dust. Many years from now, the evening of this city will still be a slow translation of madness. You feel it’s time to close the curtains, disappear a bit early. Passing truth overflows from the pasteurized milk, but it’s your continuing to write each healthy word – this lightest of felonies – that has winter trembling. It is at this time, out the window, that rays of light begin screaming off dirty chunks of ice, as if looking for a way to leave.