夜里的陶罐发出脆响 作者 王妍丁

夜里的陶罐发出脆响 王妍丁 我不想再打开我的内心 黑夜已陷入寂静 足够了 这明亮的窗口 要知道我曾多么害怕疼痛 害怕小时候 那沾着红药水的洁白的药棉 活着好吗 一只鸟 一片树叶 一滴雨水 一双搁浅在路上的鞋子 它们回答不了这由人心承载的 巨大的孤独 站在绿柚间的古陶罐 它像一个能容天下难容之事的长者 每每对着一缕月光 守口如瓶 我却在更深人静之时 听见 它腹中爆豆般的脆响 很像一首唐诗的 隔点 Pot Crunchy at Night I don't want to open my heart again The night has fallen into silence This bright window is enough You know how I once feared pains And the white cotton wool stained with red potion In my childhood Is good to be alive? A bird, a leave, and a drop of rain Even a pair of shoes stranded on the road They cannot answer the huge loneliness That carries by the heart Standing among the green pomelos, the ancient pot Is like a man who can accommodate the world's difficulty To accommodate; often facing a ray of moonlight He keeps his mouth shut as that of a pot I have heard it at midnight When it sounds like a bean bursting in the belly of pot It's like the interval dot of a poem of Tang Dynasty.