我是一盒等待被買走的水彩
對於素未謀面的那張白紙充滿焦慮
它是所有預言的總和
它是一切毀滅的抹除
它是美的凝結而我執著於純粹
我是一顆等待蒸發的草地上的朝露
對於明亮的天空充滿無限想象
為何早晨的微風如此清涼
為何小鳥的歌唱如此喜悅
為何時間必須不停地向前流動
我是一個等待自由的念頭
對於人類的思想感到異常無奈
是說捉摸不定的不總是未來
是說虛構真理的不只是言語
是說偉大的信仰隨時可能默默消風
What I Mean
I am a box of watercolors waiting to be bought
anxious about the white paper I have never met
it is the sum of all prophecies
the erasure of every destruction
the condensation of beauty
and I am obsessed with purity
I am a drop of morning dew waiting to evaporate from the grass
filled with infinite imaginings of the bright sky
why is the morning breeze so cool
why is the birdsong so joyful
why must time keep flowing forward
I am a thought waiting to be free
strangely helpless before the human mind
I mean the unpredictable is not always the future
I mean words are not the only things that invent truths
I mean even great faith may quietly lose its wind at any moment