 |
| Ma Yongbo |
Waking Up in Early Summer in Chang'an
by Ma Yongbo
Waking up in early summer when locust trees line the streets of Chang'an
In an inn called "Imperial City Post"
No couriers, no horses for relay
Not even a bony, knife-sharp donkey
No misty rain that soaks the clothes
I wander alone, trying to recall
The name of a certain street. Children
Wear uniform blue-and-white school uniforms, heavy schoolbags on their backs
Only they no longer recite my poems
Nor is there a white screen wall for me to write verses
Regardless of drunk poet friends who once splashed ink upon it
This ancient capital where I spent four years of bitter youth
Has completely erased my memories
Like footprints in water
Swarms of mayflies gather and disperse on the water's surface
Who was I, and who was once me?
If I keep walking, out of any city gate
I will meet my 18-year-old self
With tangled hair, clutching a flattened wine flask
Perhaps, a scroll of blurry poems hidden in my sleeve
Just awakened from a embrace that has grown cold
Written in the morning of May 13, 2025, in Xi'an (ancient name: Chang'an)
在长安的初夏醒来
在长安满街槐树的初夏醒来
在一座叫做"皇城驿"的旅馆
没有驿卒，没有可供替换的马匹
甚至没有瘦骨棱棱锋利如刀的蹇驴
没有沾衣欲湿的雨
我独自游荡，试图回忆起
某条街道的名字。孩子们
穿着统一的蓝白校服，书包沉重
只是他们不再朗读我的诗
也没有一处白色影壁让我题诗
毫不顾忌有哪些醉酒的诗友曾经泼墨于上
这座我度过四年苦涩青春的古都
竟已把我的记忆彻底消灭
如同水中的脚印
大群蜉蝣在水面时聚时散
我曾是谁，谁又曾经是我？
如果一直走，走出任何一座城门
我就会遇见十八岁的自己
乱发纠结，怀揣一只压扁的酒壶
也许，袖子里还藏着一卷字迹模糊的诗
刚刚从某个已经变冷的怀抱中醒来
2025年5月13日晨于西安，西安古称长安，马永波
大唐不夜城
Great Tang Ever-bright City
