周梦蝶·《十二月》英译

Twelfth Month

Zhou Mengdie

My ear membranes are rusty—soon they’ll be cocoons!

Between dreams and isolation

I’m a snake! coiled in fantasies of waking up to spring.

Who knows how much time my sleep has flattened?

The night’s as long as sorrow;

Cold’s shell cracking inch by inch.

Where did the mail boat run aground

that set out from Subzero

carrying the Twelfth Month in bloom?

In dreams I always see snowslides,

creepers swinging from steep cliffs,

touch-me-nots no more to be restrained,

eyes closed, ruminating wind and sun…

while a stone lion, its face

gloomier than Le Penseur’s,

stands up, hops up eastward,  

and roars till the dawn awakens

that makes Chaos laugh forth its tears….