外祖父
by Liu Xia落滿灰塵的向家祠堂
一片恍惚的陰影
徘徊不去
是你嗎?我面容模糊的外祖父
多少年了,我透過近視的雙眼
尋找你的手
觸摸我不曾走動過的歲月
在夢中回到你的家園
我知道你存在
舊照片上你發黃的青春
與這南方持久的碧綠
相距實在太遠
獨自一人時
我常常看到
你牽著我的手
我們一起走在一本又一本書中
心中充滿悲涼
沒有人告訴過我
關於你的任何一個微小的細節
似乎你生活在冰川期以前
而我又無力成為考古學家
我只能用心
把你交還給這些
單薄的詞語
你在陳舊的老宅裡
是否感到了一縷
新鮮的空氣
外祖父
2/1997
Grandfather
by Liu XiaIn the dusty ancestral hall,
a lingering shadow
doesn’t want to leave.
Is that blurred face you, grandfather?
For years, through my myopic
eyes, I’ve tried to seek your hands, to touch
the years I had never passed through.
In dreams, only, I arrive at your house.
I know you exist.
Your yellowed youth in old photos
looks alien in this
southern green.
When I’m alone, I often see you
holding my hand. Together
we walk through book
after book,
which fills me with chilling grief.
Nobody shares the details
of your life, as if you lived
before the ice age. It’s impossible
for me to become an archaeologist.
I can only put my whole self
into giving you back
to these thin, frail words.
In your old house, do you feel
a flash
of fresh air,
grandfather?
2/1997
translated from Chinese by Ming Di & Jennifer Stern