誓言
戴安娜·科伊·阮
风起起就停。潮水会落下。一只红腿鸬鹚
会在如镜的水上追逐完全相同的另一只,忘记它们的饥饿。
海水会一次又一次地重复这个主题,如若不然人们会不知所措。
水会在浮木下微颤。声音在先,消隐在后,
一只白色的狗跟踪着更小的一只:幽灵和月影,
两粒微尘隐身于浪涌中。浅浅的潮水忽浊忽清,海藻的
叶子随之舒舒卷卷,它们藻类的姊妹们轻拂底沙,当蛤蜊
在水下静静用餐。小雨会落下,人们会情不自禁地
贴近不可预测的海洋。躬身向下:有两个套的活结,可以从两头拉紧,
从海滩的两边我们
把双手浸在水里,感受眼睛看不见的一切。蓝血的马蹄蟹
会到手边寻求庇护,门枢般嵌在云海之间。还有还有,巨藻
会像鞭子一样蜷缩在柔软的手中,
我们的手会抓住,也懂得被抓住,但现在两手空空:我要嫁给你。
我要嫁给你。这样我们就可以发誓
要一起拥有一切美好的东西。
Vow
BY DIANA KHOI NGUYEN
It will be windy for a while until it isn’t. The waves will shoal. A red-legged
cormorant will trace her double along glassy water, forgetting they are hungry.
The sea will play this motif over and over, but there will be no preparing for it
otherwise. Water will quiver in driftwood. Sound preceding absence,
a white dog trailing a smaller one: ghost and noon shadow, two motes
disappearing into surf. And when the low tide comes lapping and clear, the curled
fronds of seaweed will furl and splay, their algal sisters brushing strands
against sands where littleneck clams feed underwater. Light rain will fall
and one cannot help but lean into the uncertainty of the sea. Bow: a knot
of two loops, two loose ends, our bodies on either side of this shore where we
will dip our hands to feel what can’t be seen. Horseshoe crabs whose blue
blood rich in copper will reach for cover, hinged between clouds and
sea. It will never be enough, the bull kelp like a whip coiling in tender hands,
hands who know to take or be taken, but take nothing with them: I will marry you.
I will marry you. So we can owe what we own to every beautiful thing.
朗读 / 小米、冬瓜糖、哪吒
配乐 / Dennis Kuo-Starlight Memories
制作 / 徐安出品 / 读首诗再睡觉(dushoushizaishuijiao)
[戴上耳机,效果更佳]