生活，你多么宽广，像道路 带着政权的气味赶往远方
远方，各族人民在歌唱 大嘴唇、尖声音，加上蓝天和广场
广场呀，生长着漫长而颓唐的农业 饕餮或饥饿在四季里彷徨
一切皆遥远，一切皆无关 热情的自身，死的自身，生活的自身
像一个小孤儿子独坐大地 像缺乏营养的云，像啊……
像生活，干脆就剥竹、毁稻、杀猪 像生活，干脆就在睡眠中，睡梦中清帐
Life Bai
Hua
Life,
you’re so broad, like a road carrying
the smell of political power rushing on to a place far-off
The
far-off place, where the people of all nationalities sing about
a blue sky and a square on the top of big lips and high-pitched voices
The
square, where endless and dejected farmers are reared over
the four seasons, voracity or starvation loiter
Everything
is far off, nothing is of any importance life
itself, death itself, enthusiasm of itself
Like
a little orphaned son sitting alone on the earth like
an undernourished cloud, like oh…
Like
life, just stripping bamboo, destroying rice, killing pigs like
living, only in your sleep, squaring accounts in your sleep
（Michael M. Day 译） |
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