123 The Little Boat with the Orange Sail

We do not need ten thousand years,
only a single second
of perfect life.

Once,
a little boat with an orange sail,
carried a lifetime of raffishness,
drifting away off the horizon,
until it vanished into the azure,
the far-off sky and sea,
leaving no trace.

Silently,
it rode the waves, weaving through rise and fall,
its hull swaying,
lifting and dipping in fierce winds and surging seas,
towards the ethereal and elusive ends of the earth,
without hesitation ,
without looking back.

This strange little boat,
arriving in a haze,
departing in mystery,
it suddenly appeared
at that sparkling moment when
we looked back at each other,
in the depth of darkness of our gaze,
coming without warning,
leaving without a backward glance…

An unexplainable
little boat with an orange sail,
quietly and casually,
in the boundless
and vast cosmic seas of sky,
came and went in a hasty fleeting flash,
this little boat with the orange sail…

122 橙色帆的小船

我們不需要一萬年，
只需要一秒的
完美的生命。

曾經，
一只橙色帆的小船，
承載著一生的𤄙灑﹐
逐漸在地平綫上漂遠，
直至消失在蔚藍
遙遠的天際﹐
不留痕跡。

靜靜的
乘著洶湧波濤穿梭浮沉，
搖擺著船身，
在疾風急浪中一起一伏，
走向虛渺空靈的天涯海角，
沒有猶疑，
也沒有回顧。

這奇怪的小船，
來得迷幻，
去得神秘，
在你我回眸的一剎
忽然出現在
我們深黑的眼底，
出現時意想不到，
離去時頭也不回．.．

一只無可解釋
橙色帆的小船，
靜悄悄不經意地，
在無邊無際
蒼茫浩瀚宇宙下的天海，
來去匆匆一閃而逝，
這一只橙色帆的小船．.．

121 回眸

平平淡淡每一天，
時間像億萬年長夜擱淺，
靜止如沙漠，
卻是你，
不知從何處來的你，
那忽然不經意的
回眸，
世界從此變了，
人生從此變了⋯

從來沒有預備，
也沒有安排，
可就是你，
不明來歷的你，
回頭凝視，
我倆眼神接觸，
電光火石的片刻，
時間跨越半世紀，
回到前生，
在那平凡的一天，
你我同一時空相遇，
生命不再漂流，
所有前緣舊事
幻化成點滴輕塵，
同墮入你
流轉的眼波⋯

120 要往地獄走一趟

我們要往地獄走一趟，
讓烈火燒成死後的鳳凰，
再生回到人間的
一片新天新地，
無窮無盡的草原，
漫山遍野的玖瑰，
美麗童話從這裏開始。
蔚藍天際橫卧
一彎淡色彩虹，
疑幻似真，
懸浮於記憶以外的
遙遠地域．．
不是天涯便是海角，
但又像近在咫尺，
彷彿從地獄走到天堂，
只在彈指之間，
卻已是半世紀的輪迴，
差一點就是永恆。
卻仍然塵緣未盡有所牽掛，
經歷火禮洗滌，
走過了地獄，
所有前塵往事都已灰飛煙滅，
且讓我們兩手相牽，
在淺笑微語和嘆息傷感中，
再次走過凱旋門，
步入那迷離夢幻的風景，
迎接為我們而敲的鐘聲，
叮噹叮噹不停．．
在這迷惘空靈的境界，
原來生命已彷如隔世，
此刻到底是天堂，
人間，還是地獄？
已無分別，
也看不分明。

119 If only this bus doesn’t stop

If only this bus doesn’t stop,
We’ll reach the edge of the sky.
The edge of the sky is beyond Tai Ping Mountain,
Already visible, and getting closer.
Ten o’clock has long passed,
Yet today is not at its end,
Why should it be ended?

Youth is the romance of the day,
Your tenderness, my affection,
This bus is already the entirety of our world.
Beyond the realm of mundanity,
Beyond thousands and millions of years,
The full moon is in mid-air,
It’s also between us.

Driver please do not stop the bus,
Be our matchmaker under the moon,
For only this one night, once past
Our love will be eternal.
I believe you can understand,
If only this bus doesn’t stop,
Time will have no meaning,
No matter how the world outside the windows turns and changes,
No matter how this mortal life ages, decays and withers away,
It has nothing to do with us.

The eternal sparkles of youth will never fade,
Just for tonight,
If only this bus doesn’t stop,
The driver doesn’t stop,
Beyond the edge of the sky, the shiny moon, and Tai Ping Mountain ….
My Love, at this moment,
The ferocious blaze of our juvenile love,
Will burn through the darkness of the night into luminance ,
At this moment,
The dazzling brilliance radiating from our age of youthfulness,
Is the outbursts of flares flashing in our eyes.

118 枯死的樹葉

那一個秋天，
公園裏的樹葉閃耀燦爛，
像你甜蜜的笑容，
懷念起美好的時光，
青春的歲月，
是秋天的童話。

盡管傷痛躲藏在濃密綠蔭之後，
那隱隱約約的哀愁，
是你眼裏的點點淚光，
透過樹葉的蓬間，
依然如故。
但忽而樹葉閃耀，
帶着最後的一絲光輝，
我們的回憶是枯死的樹葉，
隨風而去，
不再迎風呼嘯，
靜止如黑夜。

但願你會記得，
美麗的夏日，
太陽親切的微笑，
我和你一起漫步，
不覺夏日匆匆走過，
霜凍帶走了花兒，
讓悲傷乘虛而入，
抹走笑臉換來感觸，
是那樣隨意地，
叫人忘掉。

留下的只有僅存的思念，
和身體內燃燒的渴望，
還保留著這些記憶的碎片，
承載著巨大但無助的期盼，
無法捨掉的感覺，
只能銘記心中，
終要失落在時間的滄海。

但忽然樹葉的擺動停止，
拌著落日的餘暉逐漸遠離。
驀然回首，
我們的青春不再，
回憶是枯死的樹葉，
已飄散四方隨風而逝，
永不回頭．．

117 IS IT GOD’S HAND OR THE DEVIL’S

Is it God’s hand or the devil’s
which one day, united, crossed our paths?
Is it one or the other I really don’t know,
but for this love, it’s beautiful.

Is it God or is it the devil
who planted a love seed,
in my garden that beautiful morning?
Breaking through the clouds, the sun
shone on my window with a thousand beams.

Is it God’s hand or the devil’s
that put on the sea that strange sailboat,
which unwinded black and white on blue,
dancing in the wind, and
painted me a landscape that stretches
without end.

Is it God or the devil or both at once
who joined together to offer us,
so soft and shiny a cloud this morning?
Is it one or the other I really don’t know,
but for so much beauty, it’s a grace.

Is it God’s hand or the devil’s
which put that rose in the garden there?
For what love, for what lady fair,
that silky red rose in that garden there?

Those ripe prunes, those white lilacs,
plump red cherries, children laughing.
My Love was so pretty under her orange dress,
and right in the middle the sparkles of her prime.
Her eyes twinkled like the stars,
her enchanted smiles popping like fireworks.

The sail that ventured off the horizon,
that rose blossomed there,
flowers, fruits and our tears of joy,
who could have gifted us such beauty?
Is it God or the devil, we never know,
but they were all there for you and me,
so spoiled and free we were,
those magic and beautiful moments of youth.