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1998年最后的几天

最后的几天里,我的指节全部弯曲,

看不见手掌的手在暗处咯咯作响。

我不再使用我的手,不能握笔,

不能像正常的人一样挥手做再见,

上清寺生病的早晨,白癜风溃疡成灾,

我的拳头,找不到去处。

沧白路下水道是细菌传染的一个通道,

虫子堂而皇之穿越临江门。

西装革履的蝙蝠压了城,黑了,

有一抹白怎么也擦洗不掉。

这是个不下雪的城市,

白无处躲藏,不管在脸上还是裆下。

一年的最后几天都要作点总结,

我的总结是弯曲的指节,等待伸直。

THE FINAL DAYS OF 1998

In the final days my fingers are all crooked

An invisible hand cracks in the dark

I cannot use my hand, cannot hold a pen

Cannot wave goodbye like a normal person

The morning when I get sick at Upper Clear Temple

Vitiligo grows into a disaster

My fist cannot find a place to hit

The sewer at Cangbai Road is a channel to spread bac teria

Arrogant worms crawl through Linjiang Gate

Bats in suits press over the city, blocking the light

And a patch of white cannot be washed off

This is a city that never snows

White has nowhere to hide, on the face or under the crotch

A summary should be made in the final days of the year

My summary is: crooked fingers wait for becoming straight /OLaut7nK7oAO60XzXyKO+h2d1hq84gFtU+0xu84qpix+vX/sZv/D8Mmme/7p08k

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