三首诗

哀歌

一封信打开有人说天已凉另一封信打开是空的，是空的却比世界沉重一封信打开有人说他在登高放歌有人说，不，即便死了那土豆里活着的惯性还会长出小手呢另一封信打开你熟睡如橘但有人剥开你的赤裸后说他摸到了另一个你另一封信打开他们都在大笑周身之物皆暴笑不已一封信打开行云流水在户外猖獗一封信打开我咀嚼着某些黑暗另一封信打开皓月当空另一封信打开后喊死，是一件真事情

1992

春秋来信

一

这个时辰的背面，才是我的家，它在另一个城市里挂起了白旗。天还没亮，睡眠的闸门放出几辆载重卡车，它们恐龙般在拐口撕抢某件东西，本就没有的东西。我醒来。        身上一颗绿口子滚落。

二

我们的绿扣子，永恒的小赘物。

云朵，砌建着上海。        我心中一幅蓝图正等着增砖添瓦。我挪向亮处，那儿，鹤，闪现了一下。你的信立在室中央一柱阳光中理着羽毛--是的，无需特赦。得从小白菜里，从豌豆苗和冬瓜，找出那一个理解来，

来关掉肥胖和机器--        我深深地被你身上的矛盾吸引，移到窗前。四月如此清澈，好似烈酒的反光，街景颤抖着组合成深奥的比例。是的，我喊不醒现实。而你的声音追上我的目力所及："我，

就是你呀！我也漂在这个时辰里。工地上就要爆破了，我在我这边鸣这面锣示警。游过来呀，接住这面锣，它就是你错过了的一切。"

三

我拾起地上的绿扣子，吹了吹。开始忙我的事儿。        静的时候，窗下经过的邮差以为我是我的肖像； 有时我趴在桌面昏昏欲睡，双手伸进空间，像伸进一付镣铐，

哪儿，哪儿，是我们的精确呀？        ……绿扣子。

1997

世界

这个世界里还呈现另一个世界，一个跟这个世界一模一样的世界--不不，不是另一个而是同一个。是一个同时也是两个

世界。    因而我信赖那看不见的一切。夜已深，我坐在封闭的机场，往你没有的杯中倾倒烈酒。        没有的燕子的脸。正因为你戴着别人的戒指，我们才得以如此亲近。

Three Poems

Zhang Zao

Elegy

a letter opens and someone saysit's getting coldanother letter opensit is empty, emptyyet heavier than the worlda letter openssomeone says he is singing from a mountain heightsomeone says no, even if the potato was deadthe inertia alive in itwould still grow tiny handsanother letter opensyou sleep like a tangerinebut after peeling off your nudity someone sayshe has touched another youanother letter opensthey are all laughingeverything around explodes into laughtera letter opensclouds and water run wild outsidea letter opensI am chewing a certain darknessanother letter openshigh moon in the skyanother letter opens and shoutsdeath is something real(1992)

Letters In Four Seasons

1

The obverse of this instant is indeed my home.It raises a white flag in another city.Before the crack of dawn, floodgates of sleeplet out some trucks. Like dinosaurs, at a turnthey claw for something which is nothing.I wake up.        A green button tumbles off my body.

2

Our green button, the tiny residue of eternity.

Clouds, bricking Shanghai.            A blueprint in my heartawaits more brick and tile. I shift toward light.There, a crane flashes for a second. Your lettersstand in a column of light at the center of the room, preening-yes, no need for amnesty. Perception must be soughtinside bok choy, from pea shoots and winter melons.

Come, switch off obesity and machines-            I'm deeplydrawn by contradictions on your body. Move over to the window.Such a clear April, like light reflected off hard liquor.Series of profound proportions shudder in street scenes.Yes, my screams can't wake reality up. Yet your voicecatches the limits of my sight, I-

am you! I'm also drifting in this instant.The construction site is going to explode. I'm right herestriking the gong to raise the alarm. Swim over here!Catch this gong, it's everything you've missed.

3

I pick up a green button, and blow at it.Start to busy myself with life.            In the stillness,a postman passing by the window thinks I'm my portrait- sometimes I sluggishly sprawl across the table,both hands reaching into emptiness, like reaching into a pair of handcuffs.

Where, where is our precision?            ...Green button.

(1997)

World

Yet another world emerges in this world.A world just like this oneworld-no, no, not another butthe same one. One and two

worlds.    This is why I trust all that stays invisible.Late at night, I sat at the closed airport,pouring hard liquor intoyour empty glass.        No sparrow's face.Because you were wearing someone else'sring,we became so intimate.