Canyon in the Body (English and Simplified Chinese)

8. My Pen

16 我的笔 蘸满肮脏的泥水，我的笔 有着直立的影子。一棵陡峭的树 从那里生长。我的笔 钻进垃圾箱翻捡 弯下的身躯在纸上爬行。我的笔 要钉住大皮靴燃烧的脚印 挖掘被活埋的东西。 它准备放弃天赋、流水账 插进坚硬的石头。石头。 它记录噩梦，记录弯曲的影子 真诚是它的哨兵。我的笔 折回它的翅膀，向下钻 直到岩层下的哀嚎握住它—— 火和油。这是我想要的。 每一声被称之为诗的哭泣都想要的。 17 My Pen Dipped in muddy water, my pen casts a vertical shadow. A steep tree grows from there. My pen digs into a trash bin and rummages its bent body crawling across paper. My pen wants to nail down burning footprints by leather boots digging out things that were buried alive. It is ready to give up talent, daily accounts stuck in solid stone. Stone. It records nightmares, records curving shadows Sincerity is its sentry. My pen folds back its wings, dips downward until wails beneath rock layers hold it tight — fire and oil. This is what I want. What each fit of weeping known as poetry would want. ...