悲 伤 / Sorrow

Chinese

没有一部作品可以把我变为恒河, / 可以把这老朽的死亡平息, / 可以消除一个朝代的阴湿。
我想起柏拉图与塞涅卡的演讲。 / 孔子的游说,与老子的无言。
我想起入暮的讲经堂,/ 纯净的寺院 一柄剑的沉默犹如聆听圣歌的沉默。
死亡,爱情和光阴,都成了 / 一个个的问题,但不是最后的一个问题。
我想起曙光的无言,落日的圆满。 / 没有一部作品可以让我忘掉黑夜, / 忘掉我的愚蠢,我的喧闹的生命。

English

No masterpiece can transform me into the Ganges,
nor pacify this decrepit death,
nor remove the moldiness of a dynasty.
I remember the speeches of Plato and Seneca,
Confucius’ lobbying and Lao Tze’s wordlessness.
I remember dusky scripture halls and chaste temples.
Silence of a sword, like silence listening to a psalm.
Death, love and time become
questions, questions that do not pose the ultimate question.
I remember the wordlessness of dawn, the plenitude of a setting sun.
No masterpiece will make me forget the dark night,
forget my folly, my riotous life.

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