A Phone Call From Dalian: Selected Poetry of Han Dong

30. Return

70 归来 我回来了，从深圳到南京 白天还没有结束 不能说我不理解时间 不能说，这样幼稚的话 ——既然我已预备了棉衣 穿着它到家 只是，夜晚降临，那南方的阳光在我的体内 仍未熄灭 我去拍击朋友家的门 把他们唤到寒冷的街上来 我愚蠢地说：零点刚过，在深圳 一切不过刚刚开始！ 没有人和我争辩，他们 习惯于沉默 在夫妻的床上延长夫妻的生活 或背靠（烤）着背，互相取暖 （其后的一个月里 我满怀背叛的愿望 我欢呼“我已变样！” 然而不过是生物钟的紊乱 时差或作息表的改变 一只神秘的手于暗中 慢慢调整） 我更深地陷入往昔 就像从空中落下，继续 钻入泥土。冬天像一支大军深入 71 Return I returned from Shenzhen to Nanjing There was still some daylight left It wasn’t that I didn’t understand time You couldn’t say anything so naive Having taken a padded jacket with me I put it on when I went back home And yet, as the evening approached My body retained the southern sunlight Still unextinguished I went knocking at my friends’ doors And called them out into the icy streets I said stupidly: It’s after midnight, in Shenzhen Everything is just starting! No one argued with me, being Used to silence They got on with their lives in double beds as husband and wife Or back to back, drawing warmth from each other (For a month afterwards I was full of rebellious hopes and desires And cried joyfully: “I have changed!” But it was only a disturbance of my biological clock The difference in time zones, or the changes in my schedule There was a mysterious and unseen hand slowly adjusting In the darkness) Now I am sinking deeper into the past As though falling from the sky, continuing My plunge into the earth. Winter is settling into its siege 72 围困。寒冷甚至使金属收缩 而在南方，最柔软的就最美好地开放 像花朵，和生殖器官 淫荡依赖于海上和贸易的熏风 我回到了南京 起居在冰雪和霜冻附近 像那些远古的圣人，在西亚、帕米尔 在雪峰和冰川的附近 热带是不会产生圣人的。我理解了 耶稣不是一个黑人 我回来了，回到了南京 继续某种中间生活 在太阳和冰雪之间，处于 房间阴冷的影子里 偶尔出入于歌厅 那温暖的洞穴 远离永恒或刺激的一瞬 我像所有平庸而痛苦的存在 我就是 73 Like a great army. Even metals contract in the cold But in the south, the softest things open up in the finest way Like flowers and their sexual organs Licentiousness depends on warm ocean breezes and the trade winds Now I’m back in Nanjing Living near ice, snow and frost Like the saints of ancient times in the Pamir mountains of Central Asia Close to snow-capped peaks and glaciers The tropics can produce no saints. I know very well That Jesus was not a black man Now I’m back, back in Nanjing Getting on with a middling kind of life Between sun and ice, I inhabit The cold shadows of my room Occasionally visiting a nightclub That warm cave Where I am far from eternity or a moment of excitement I’m like any commonplace and painful existence That’s all I am (1994) ...