End of Days
By Wén Yīduō
Translated by A.Z. Foreman
Dew sobs in the choked waterpipes' bamboo.
Green plantain tongues lick at the window like a bone.
As chalky white walls back away from me
The room is now too huge for me to fill alone.
I light a firepit up in my heart's chamber.
Waiting for my guest from afar, I hush and brood
feeding the flame with telltale turds of rats.*
A mottled scaly snakeskin is my kindlewood.
The cock crows hurry. Ash heaps in the pit.
A cold dark wind glances my mouth in one soft blow
and there's my visitor before my eyes.
I close my eyes at last to follow him and go.
*The original reads literally "spider silk/webs and rat turds", a play on 蛛絲鼠跡 "spider webs and rat traces" which carries the idiomatic meaning of "subtle clues".
The Original:
末日
聞一多
露水在筧筒裏哽咽着,
芭蕉的綠舌頭舐着玻璃窗,
四圍的堊壁都往後退,
我一人填不滿偌大一間房。
我心房裏燒上一盆火,
靜候着一個遠道的客人來,
我用蛛絲鼠矢餵火盆,
我又用花蛇的麟甲代劈柴。
雞聲直催,盆裏一堆灰,
一股陰風偷來摸着我的口,
原來客人就在我眼前,
我眼皮一閉,就跟着客人走。
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