Reprinting

I really like this poem and hope it can reside in the public domain. I'm not sure of its status, because it's been posted online, as well as printed in a literary magazine. If this is not allowed, please e-mail me and I'll take it down.

歸來

陳義芝

是風問還是人在問
你好不好？
夜來坐看跨岸的橋影
迅速落過妳脖頸的一抹月光
驀然聞到甘蔗香的蓮霧
我說好，不是風
是心底的聲音

你好不好？沒有答案
我問或是妳問都是一樣
一樣在水邊
夏日轟轟的聲音已沈寂
微光透過窗 枝葉因風而猶疑
帶上門，長廊在窺看
電梯不等人

你好就是我
我好也會是你
不管季節有情無
風如何來來去去
灌滿警示水深的巷弄
不管應桃紅了，或唇冷了
記憶總在白花花的縐摺裡翻湧

沒有人像你
也沒有人像我
當日曆一天天的換裝，一年又過
鮮麗的容顏用小陰的雨挲染
日常的語言用小晴的雲勾描
手指梳理發燙的身體
亂髮飄盪頑皮的呼吸

一千零一夜的故事
一千零一個晚上怎說的完
除非夜夜向蒼穹的盡頭張望
銀河的車窗全開著
祈願的香頭全部點燃
越過重山後我們又歸來
水岸的燈火仍搖晃著

Homecoming
I-Chih CHEN
translated by Chris Wen-Chao Li

Was it the wind or was it someone
asking, How have you been?
As night dawns, sitting there watching the bridge's reflection cast across the river,
a sliver of moonlight dashing across your neck,
then suddenly the scent of bellapple mixed with sweet sugarcane.
Fine, I said. That was no wind,
but a voice deep from the heart.


How have you been? Then no answer
coming from you or me.
At the water's edge also,
the din of summer had died down,
a glimmer of light shining through; the leaves were wavering, swayed by the wind,
which shut the door behind it. As if the corridors were spying;
like an elevator which waits for no one.


I'm fine if you are
and you're fine if I am,
whether or not the seasons show mercy,
as storms come and go,
flooding the back alleys to alert level,
whether it's cherries bright red or lips turned cold,
memories of you will forever toss and turn, dancing between those shimmering white
folds.


No one's quite like you
and no one's quite like me.
Pages torn from the calendar each day tell of another year gone by:
your glamorous face wet-brushed by the drizzle of weather overcast,
our daily exchanges set against the bright clouds of sunny skies,
fingers combing through the warmth of your body,
frazzled hair dancing to your playful breathing.


Are a thousand and one nights sufficient
to tell the tales of nights a thousand and one?
Not unless we gaze nightly towards the sky's edge,
roll down the windows to the universe
and set every prayer candle ablaze.
Over the hills and through the woods, we've come back full circle,
the lights across the shore still flickering.

---

Originally published/原載於民國九十五年二月十六日《聯合報》副刊。
Translation published in the Chinese PEN (Summer 2007).