天亮時雨聲沉默了秋分
早晨的咖啡預告著它自己的失蹤
誰假裝若無其事地冥想時間
陷入了三摩地的酸苦遊戲
雖然來去無心，說不定
只有穿過紗窗的風是唯一的明白
Equinox
At dawn,
the rain’s murmur silenced the Equinox.
The morning coffee foretells
its own vanishing.
Who pretends, untroubled,
to meditate on time—
only to sink into the sour play
of Samadhi.
Though comings and goings
leave no heart behind, perhaps—
the only clarity
is the wind
slipping through the screen window.
