The body became a vessel,the rasping breath
its proof,and before him nothing
but that ocean sweep
he traveled over.His spirit
lofted forth,his voice
a long quavering
when the wind permitted,as if
out there somewhere some god
held the string.
He was carried somewhere else,who knows?
then fell back,found
the diligent old body at his desk.
身體變成了空殼,
粗厲的呼吸聲,就此證明。
除了曾經凝視過的海潮,
他什么都沒有留下。
他的靈魂升起,
風向合適時,
嗓音會久久地顫動,
仿佛是上帝在天邊,
拽著那根線。
他將被帶向何方?無人知曉,
隨之又會重新墜落。
留下那勤懇而蒼老的身軀,
伏在桌上。
譯者小感:如果人的生命是一只風箏,最終會將地上的那根線交給誰?如果人的生命是一灣海潮,又會將最后一縷清澈的空氣投給