Abortion Zhang
Zhen
The
light of day is shimmering, shimmering And
there you are, perfectly formed As
meek and docile as a baby bird My
little bird You
narrowly escaped total disaster But
now the umbilical cord that will never exist Has
made me sad
In
the imagined relationship Of
mother and son Myself
and you I
had already sharpened the knife Blood
had sprayed gorgeous patterns on the ceiling A
pair of tiny feet hoisted upside down
That
was my love You
should have been a golden child Resplendent
as a sacred cauldron Yet
for all I know you could have been a blackness Blotting
out my windows Thank
heavens for this reconciliation I
shall get drunk
That
was also my hatred For
a long time I had peered into the womb At
your unnecessary existence With
great difficulty I crossed mountain after mountain Running
a foot-race with you in my sleep In
the end I was all the one to be rescued
Now
I call on your soul to return Whatever
language I use You
curl up in my lap to listen But
I have no parables for you Your
mother has only a lot of secrets And
you are one of them
Walking
now at the head of the funeral procession I
am dressed all in crimson Holding
poppies for you like flames Your
brother and sisters will all be told That
you were the eldest son, the first, And
were handsomer than any of them And
so I am proud of you
Returning
home, I walk haltingly as before To
and fro between draperies and curtains Longing
for your unknown form Candlelight
fills the air with your curious scent From
birth you were destined not to belong to me But
as I stand before the mirror about to leave the house I
see you there with me
（Naikan Tao and Tony Prince 译） |
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