Boast of Quietness

Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than
meteors.
The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside.
Sure of my life and death, I observe the ambitious and would
like to understand them.
Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air.
Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack.
They speak of humanity.
My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of that same poverty.
They speak of homeland.
My homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old
sword, the willow grove’s visible prayer as evening falls.
Time is living me.
More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous
multitude.
They are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow.
My name is someone and anyone.
I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn’t
expect to arrive.

宁静的自得

光明的文字划过黑暗，比流星更为神奇。

认不出来的城市在田野上显得更为高大。

我确信自己生死有命，瞅着那些野心勃勃的人，

试着对他们有所了解。

他们的白天像空中旋舞的套索那么贪婪。

他们的夜晚是刀剑愤怒的间隙，随时准备攻击。

他们侈谈人性。

我的人性在于感到我们都是同一贫乏的声音。

他们侈谈祖国。

我的祖国是吉他的搏动，几帧照片和一把旧剑。

傍晚时柳树林清晰的祈祷。

时间将我消耗。

我比自己的影子更寂静，穿过纷纷扰扰的贪婪。

他们是必不可少的，唯一的，明天的骄子。

我的名字微不足道。

我款款而行，有如来自远方而不存到达希望的人。