《窗外》
假如那人悄然自你窗外走過,
像那無聲的夜,
從一列房子掩向另一列房子,
不留一絲痕跡,
什麼事情也沒有發生,
像冬天的雪。
窗內的你,
燭光是否依然明亮?
書卷是否依然繁帙?
是否沉思的你,
依然慵懶倦怠,
默默地把寫完的日記闔上,
嘆一口氣,然後期待。
假如什麼事情也沒有發生,
這人名滿天下也好,
藉藉無聞也罷,
假如根本就沒有發見與愛慕,
在長夜的沉思與期待裏,
你可仍會為他坎坷的際遇而憤慨,
落泊的感情而不安?
你可仍會聽到那人的吶喊與惶恐
– – – – – –
在遙遠的窗外?
《Outside the Window》
Suppose that guy passes quietly outside your window,
like that soundless night,
from one row of houses to another,
without a trace,
without anything ever happened,
like the winter snow.
You, the one inside the window
Is the candle light still that bright?
Are the books still in abundance?
Is the contemplating you
still languid and indolent,
closing the finished diary in silence,
giving a sigh and then awaiting.
Suppose nothing ever happens,
this guy, be he well-known
or just a nobody,
suppose there is neither discovery nor adoration at all,
in the long night of contemplation and expectation
Would you still be indignant at his life of frustration,
uneasy about his emotion of disappointment?
Would you still hear the screams and fears of that guy --------
far outside the window?