沉默的泰加森林

今天一口氣寫了五首詩，直到晚上無意中看到這篇文章，也許是上天給我的美好回應。忍不住把它全文照登。為什麼呢？一切盡在不言中。
全文如下：

與世隔絕40年！一家人深居密林，遠離文明的史上最不可思議真實故事 https://share.google/NnPnNUiFW89YLRjHr

在這個高速連結、螢幕不滅的時代，西伯利亞深處的一段孤絕、倖存之旅，像一面冷冽的鏡子，照見我們對便利與喧嘩的依賴。里科夫家族在泰加林裡沉默了整整四十年，以信念與勞作編織日常，讓「遠離文明」成為一種生活而非浪漫的傳說。

我是不是

我是不是和那個莫名的什麼有了根本的矛盾？再也不能快樂地自言自語，就連毫無意義的廢話都不行。

我是不是眾人皆醉我獨醒，一直自我感覺良好地超然一切？不是這個，不是那個，就這樣五四三地敷衍了世界和自己。

我是不是黑暗中害怕孤獨，回頭又很淡然地說“沒關係”？總會過去，總會海闊天空。

我是不是戰戰兢兢地走著鋼索？人們羨慕，為我鼓掌叫好。人們嫉妒，怎麼還不掉下來？或者那純粹只是一個沒人在意的想象而已。

我是不是期待一首打破常規的協奏曲？像孟德爾頌那樣，不完美的完美靈魂。

我是不是無法被愛，又不敢去愛？一旦思想了這個問題，它就再也不是愛了。

          I Am, Am I?

Have I fallen into some fundamental conflict with that nameless something? I can no longer happily talk to myself, not even in meaningless gibberish.

Am I the only sober one in a world intoxicated, forever feeling smugly transcendent? Not this, not that, just meaningless rambling the world and myself.

Am I the one who fears loneliness in the dark, yet turns around and calmly says, "It's okay"? It will pass. Eventually, the seas will broaden, and the skies clear.

Am I walking a tightrope, trembling with fear? People look up in envy, cheering me on. Others, consumed by jealousy, wonder, "When will she fall?" Or is it merely a figment of imagination that no one cares to notice?

Am I yearning for a concerto that breaks all conventions? Like Mendelssohn's, a perfect soul in its imperfections.

Am I unworthy of love, yet too afraid to love? The moment I intellectualize this question, it ceases to be love.

宇宙的省話模式

空性是宇宙的省話模式
它無法定義它自己

沉默從來不需要原因

它沒有故事好說

它只有我們

存在從來不需要理由

    The Universe's Laconic Mode

Emptiness is the universe's laconic mode.

It cannot define itself.

Silence never needs a reason.

It has no stories to tell.

It only has us.

Existence never needs a justification.

*Translator's Note: 

"Emptiness" here translates the Buddhist concept of "Śūnyatā," which refers not to mere nothingness, but to the essential absence of independent, inherent existence in all phenomena.

給離我遠去的我

給離我遠去的我
誰是誰越來越稀疏的記憶

給離我遠去的我

難道我們只是想象的虛擬

給離我遠去的我

夢裡相見只剩下模糊的光影

給離我遠去的我

存在留下了永不存在的意義

      —— 一場沒有回應的獨白，在語言與沉默的縫隙間，徒勞地追問那些終將隨自我一同消逝的意義。

        To Myself Who Left Me

To myself who left me,

Whose memories are fading, whose?

To myself who left me,

Are we merely virtual entities of imagination?

To myself who left me,

In dreams we meet, only blurry light remains.

To myself who left me,

Existence leaves behind the meaning of never existing.

       —— A monologue without response,

in the interstice between language and silence,

futilely questioning those meanings

that are destined to vanish along with the self.

意識仍在原始的洪荒裡狩獵

哲學耽溺於百思不解，

信仰的廉價承諾明天會更好，

末日預言的精髓在於一再跳票。

空間幾何被能量收斂，

時間開始走下坡，

你感覺自己越來越沉重。

即使沒有封口費人們也都閉嘴了，

信息土石流文明滅頂，

意識仍在原始的洪荒裡狩獵。

Consciousness Still Hunts in

Primordial Chaos

Philosophy wallows in unanswerable loops,

Faith's cheap promises of a better tomorrow,

The essence of apocalyptic prophecies lies in their constant postponement.

Spatial geometry is converged by energy,

Time begins its descent,

You feel your own weight increasing.

Even without hush money people stay silent,

Civilization drowns in informational mudslides,

Yet consciousness still hunts in primordial chaos.

盡頭

圖：Lumicat

活在宇宙泡泡的黑暗空洞裡
瘋傳真理被精神滅口了

語言之心躲在休止符的後面

你一向明白先知是孤獨又自閉的

盡頭總是看不到想象的盡頭

          The End

Living in the dark void of a cosmic bubble

Rumor has it that truth was spiritually silenced

The heart of language hides behind the rest symbol

You've always known the prophet is lonely and autistic

The end never reveals the end we envision

經過

今天的池上大陂（大坡池）。

你是你自己靈魂的知音
卻常常傷了它的心

教眼淚在星際間孤獨流浪

逃避這人間的璀璨燈火

你是你自己靈魂的鏡像

卻常常背對著它的深情目光

那些一再重復的冷淡言語

像時間一樣悄然經過

      —— 水岸邊的草坡上靜坐，原來人一直都在天地的冥想中冥想天地。

          Passing

You are the one your soul would know,

Yet oft you strike the heart below;

You teach your tears through stars to go,

Escaping earth’s resplendent glow.

You are your soul’s reflected show,

Yet turn from eyes that warmly flow;

Those words repeated, soft and low,

Like time itself—they come, they go.

        —— Sitting quietly on the grass slope by the water, it turns out that people have always been meditating on heaven and earth in the meditation of heaven and earth.

陌生回想

我是這樣的人，

但我不是這樣的靈魂。

昨日遠去，

未來是一種無法定義的陌生回想。

      Strange Recollection

I am the kind of person I am,

but I am not that kind of soul.

Yesterday drifts away,

the future is an undefinable, strange recollection.

甚至什麼也不是

宇宙是祂寫的一首詩

我們是詩裡的某個短句或單詞

甚至停頓

宇宙是祂冥想出來的一道謎題

我們是無盡的猜測或可能

甚至不存在的永恆存在

宇宙是祂的自畫像

我們是畫裡的一個筆觸或色調

甚至什麼也不是的空白

        Even Nothing

The universe — a poem penned by Him;

we, a brief phrase or single word within it,

perhaps only the silence between verses.

The universe — a riddle born of His meditation;

we, relentless conjectures, fragile possibilities,

or an eternity that both is and is not.

The universe — His self-portrait;

we, a stroke or hue upon the canvas,

or simply the white that remains — nothing at all.

三個老朋友

孤獨來去
出生和死亡

人間是它的使用說明

空無所有

甚至沒有自己

世界是意識不小心留下的殘影

詩歌如風

深夜所冥想的宇宙裡

命運是時光渴望永恆的抒情

—— 我是幸福的，我有三個老朋友：孤獨、空無和詩歌。

      Three Old Friends

Solitude comes and goes,

Birth and death its ebb and throes,

The human world — its user’s prose.

Nothing at all,

Not even a self to call,

The world — a shadow consciousness let fall.

Poetry is like a breeze,

In the midnight universe the mind sees,

Fate — time’s lyric, longing for endless seas.

     —— I am fortunate: I have three old friends — Solitude, Nothingness, and Poetry.

沉默以對

圖：門前早晨的露珠  Satyavan He

語言渴望結束

它與思想之間的曖昧關係，

卻無論如何說不出口，

只能沉默以對。

就像早晨的露珠，

在最後的蒸融消失裡，

總是來不及

向黑夜的寧静道別。

     Responding with Silence

Language longs to end

its ambiguous entanglement with thought,

yet no matter how it tries,

it cannot speak—

it can only respond with silence.

Like morning dew,

vanishing in its final evaporation,

always too late

to bid farewell

to the quiet of the night.

守夜

東海岸以東 

星星和它們的黑暗留白

直播著鏡頭君的放空

YouTube的世界窗口 

5人正在收看

失眠是最虔誠的靈魂守夜

     —— 東海岸金樽遊憩區即時影像（Live Cam）鏡頭君，某個深夜，5人正在收看。

     Night Watch

East of the East Coast,

the stars and their dark whitespace

are being livestreamed by Mr. Lens’s vacant gaze.

A YouTube window on the world—

five people watching.

Insomnia is the most devout soul’s vigil.

      —— A live cam at Jin-Zun Recreation Area, sometime deep at night,five people were watching.

明媚的秋光

喚醒早晨懸而未決的曖昧心態，

淺碟上始終堆疊著美味的餅乾碎片。

那鮮艷欲滴的血色蘸醬，

瞇眼垂涎於風的泛濫平原。

只不過明媚的秋光尚未誕生，

真理之貓猶在黑夜裡徘徊。

       Radiant Autumn Light

It awakens the morning’s unresolved, ambivalent mood,

and on a shallow saucer there are always piled tasty crumbs of cookies.

That vividly glistening, blood-red dipping sauce—

with narrowed eyes it salivates at the wind’s overflowing plains.

Only, the radiant autumn light has not yet been born,

and the Cat of Truth still wanders in the night.

Forget It

東北季風來了
今晚確定沒有月色

遠方的城市也許久未失眠

但請 forget it

這習慣獨行的散步

因此開始尋找被遺落的回憶

          Forget It

The northeast monsoon has arrived.

There is surely no moon tonight.

Maybe the far city has been sleeping for a long time —

but please, forget it.

On my habitual walk alone

I try to find the memories that were left behind.

人類和他們的以為

圖：Lumicat

所有的歷史都是一種謊言；
所有的謊言最終都將成為歷史。

倉鼠滾輪，

還有人類和他們的以為。

      —— 小時候的八股作文，總愛說“歷史的巨輪”，現在發現，原來更像個“倉鼠滾輪”，只是賣力原地奔跑。

    Humans and Their Assumptions

All history is a kind of lie;

lies, in the end, become history.

Hamsters on the wheel —

and humans, with their assumptions.

        —— In my childhood essay writing, I always loved to talk about the "wheel of history." Only now do I realize it's more like a hamster wheel—just running hard in place.

虛幻的彩虹

為了活得好一點，

我們寧願選擇腦補的人生。

給自己多一點色彩，

即使它只是天邊虛幻的彩虹。

       The Illusory Rainbow

For the sake of living a little better,

we’d rather choose a life we imagine.

We give ourselves a little more color,

even if it’s only a rainbow—illusory at the horizon.