*圖由Gemini生成
以編輯之名夜晚審查了我的散步，
不容自由思想即使只是偶然吹過的風。
人若樹梢的停止搖擺隱隱約約記得，
意識怎會那樣承認某些打翻過的咖啡？
並且虛張聲勢地將一切真理疊加上來，
意圖鐫刻自我於短暫與永恆之外。
反抗吧！管它是否還有咒語般的深刻謊言，
曾經我們都是一首值得浪費時間的情詩。
A Love Poem Worth Wasting Time
Under the name of an editor, the night censors my walks,
Not allowing free thoughts even if they were just a breeze that blew by.
If people were like the treetops that stopped swaying, they vaguely remembered,
How could consciousness acknowledge some spilled coffee like that?
And superimpose all truths with bluff,
Intending to engrave oneself beyond the transient and the eternal.
How can consciousness recognize some spilled coffee that way?
And to bluffly superimpose all truths on it.
To engrave the ego beyond the ephemeral and the eternal.
Resist! No matter if there are still spell-like profound lies,
We were once a love poem worth wasting time on.
