民歌

赶场的人们回家了
可是我的诗没有归来
有人曾看见它
带着金色的口弦
在黄昏路口的屋檐下
喝醉了酒
沮丧徘徊

坡上的羊儿进圈了
可是我的诗没有归来
领头羊曾看见它
在太阳沉落的时候
望着流血的山岗
欲哭无泪
独自伤感
四邻的乡亲都安睡了
可是我的诗没有归来
一个人坐在门前等待
这样的夜晚谁能忘怀？！

Folk Song

The people have gone home from market
But my poem has not returned
It has been seen
Wearing a golden mouthstring
Under the eaves of crossroads at dusk
Drunk
Tarrying disheartened

The sheep from the hillside are in the fold
But my poem has not returned
It has been seen by the bell-wether
As the sun set
Watching the bleeding ridge
Trying to force tears
Along and sick at heart
The neighbours are asleep all around
But my poem has not returned
Sitting alone on the doorstep waiting
Who could forget such an evening?