the soft white skull of honeysuckle 柔软洁⽩的忍冬花的头⻣

facing into the darkness. Up close, her intrusive scent
rearranges itself in her white petal curls. Her extended tongues
are tethers for the moths; her night comforters. She does not
shake the silver from the poplars, she does not question the owls
awake in their stick nests. She rests her white head on the curved
shoulder of the yew hedge. Her twiggy anchors in the soil, would be
harvested by dormice, if any still exist; twisted into coils of night-
nests. I breathe her breath. Honey, are you there in the blackness,
by accident, waiting for me, or the night bell? The yawn
of graveyards, the emptiness of a broken sequence; time withers
without mice

 

by Helen Pletts 海伦·普莱茨
Picture: Honeysuckle (1876) by William Morris

 

Chinese Translation by Ma Yongbo ⻢永波 2024

柔软洁⽩的忍冬花的头⻣the soft white skull of honeysuckle⻢永波 译

直⾯⿊暗。靠近时,她那侵略性的⾹⽓
在⽩⾊花瓣的卷曲中重整⾃身。她伸展的⾆头
是⻜蛾的拴绳;是夜晚的慰藉。
她不摇落⽩杨树的银光,她不质疑
在树巢中醒着的猫头鹰。她将洁⽩的头靠在
紫杉树篱弯曲的肩膀上。她的细根锚定在⼟壤中,
将会被睡⿏收获,如果还有睡⿏存在的话;
编织成夜巢的线圈。我呼吸着她的⽓息。
亲爱的,你在这⿊暗中,是偶然吗
你在等我,还是夜钟?墓地裂开,
⼀连串破碎的空⽆;没有⿏类,时间便会凋零

 

 

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