暴风雪
洛尔娜·克罗齐/加拿大维多利亚
阿九译
钻进母亲的那件麝鼠大衣,我们走进风里;
她的腕骨已将袖口的绒毛磨尽。
只要一停下脚步,我们就会立刻消失。一马平川,
也没有亮着窗户的房屋。只有风,还有我们体内的
声响。等我们到家的时候,父亲
也许在,也许不在。从来没有谁来找过我们。
我真想躺下,就在这里静静地躺着,周围只有雪
在下。沉默倒并不怎么孤单,只是不说话
就觉得冷。母亲用力拉着我,不肯松手。但后来
连她也停下来,给自己找了块地方。在星星做成的
屋顶下,我们并不知道,是否有人听得出
我们说了些什么,在离家这么远的地方。
Blizzard
Lorna Crozier/Victoria, Canada
Walking into wind, I lean into my mother's muskrat coat;
around the cuffs her wristbones have worn away the fur.
If we stood still we'd disappear. There's no up or down,
no houses with their windows lit. The only noise is wind
and what's inside us. When we get home my father
will be there or not. No one ever looks for us.
I could lie down and stay right here where snow is all
that happens, and silence isn't loneliness just cold
not talking. My mother tugs at me and won't let go.
Then stops to find her bearings. In our hoods of stars
we don't know if anyone will understand
the tongue we speak, so far we are from home.