陈子弘 译
我看见了海滩上一条幼鲨，
喉咙在滴血，海鸥还吃了它的眼睛。
陈尸贝壳和沙上，看起来比以前更小。
海水把它肚腹卷得干干净净。
我戳它的肚皮，暗墨从它体内冒起，
犹如黑汁。尔后，我见到一个男孩，
激越而抖擞，在沙丘上招手。
他与我一样，也是一个人。我们之间有什么在翻滚——
不完全是情感。我能看到他内眼角的
红肉。“我迷路了，我在哪里啊？”
他问道，像亡者未还的欠账。
我把脸贴近它的矛柄之上。
我们跌落，跌落了，正在跌落。没有什么缓冲。
黑暗的胚胎亮出牙齿，而我们离去。
Beach Walk
I found a baby shark on the beach.
Seagulls had eaten his eyes. His throat was bleeding.
Lying on shell and sand, he looked smaller than he was.
The ocean had scraped his insides clean.
When I poked his stomach, darkness rose up in him,
like black water. Later, I saw a boy,
aroused and elated, beckoning from a dune.
Like me, he was alone. Something tumbled between us—
not quite emotion. I could see the pink
interior flesh of his eyes. “I got lost. Where am I?”
he asked, like a debt owed to death.
I was pressing my face to its spear hafts.
We fall, we fell, we are falling. Nothing mitigates it.
The dark embryo bares its teeth and we move on.
