《于斯塔德》

作者：和平岛

只有诗人

敢把每一片风景

写成自己喜欢的颜色

一片

一片

叠加

出的色块

才会像

奶牛一样

挤出光线

浅尝半口

足以喂饱一位艺术家

搭积木

搭出三百多座半木结构房屋

森林的翠绿

中世纪的赤陶红、赭石色和纯白

色块

雕刻出

玫瑰花巷的鲜花

和草莓

我买了三盒

色块

铺设成原汁原味、凹凸不平的石板路

跟着我走进

十三世纪

圣玛丽教堂

只有于斯塔德

才会借来

斯科讷山脉的金色斗篷

波罗的海的蓝色裙子

穿到自己身上

只有我

站成第六十块巨石

俯瞰苍穹

只有地平线

拽住我，怕我

把艾尔石，这艘铁器时代晚期的巨轮

驶离瑞典王国

Ystad

By He Ping Dao (Peace Island)

Only a poet

Dares to write each fragment of scenery

Into the colors of their own choosing.

Blocks of color

Layered

One upon another,

Only then, like a cow,

Do they squeeze out the light;

A mere half-sip

Is enough to feed an artist.

Playing with blocks,

Constructing over three hundred half-timbered houses:

The lush green of forests,

The terracotta red, ochre, and pure white of the Middle Ages.

Blocks of color

Carve out the blossoms of Rose Lane

And the strawberries—

I bought three boxes.

Blocks of color

Pave the authentic, uneven cobblestone paths,

Following me into

The thirteenth-century

Saint Mary’s Church.

Only Ystad

Would borrow

The golden cloak of the Skåne hills

And the blue skirt of the Baltic Sea

To wear upon itself.

Only I

Stand as the sixtieth monolith,

Looking down upon the firmament.

Only the horizon

Clutches me, fearing I might

Pilot the Ale’s Stones—this Late Iron Age galleon—

Away from the Swedish Kingdom.