DREAM IS A REAL WOMAN
If I dreamt of you waving
to the departing seagulls
disappearing into rolling clouds,
does it mean the world is a gift
I was given on the day
you and your love had ventured
into the unknown night
hand in hand, saying
“He will bring light
to our saddened days?”
Or if I dreamt of blood
coming out of Tara’s pure
scented utpala, soaking
the backseat with blazing
flames of mother-love,
does that mean the Mind
was born Here, not There?
Or does it mean Love
can only appear at the end
of Blood?
I tread the soft silk flowers
made by women who keep me
awake and informed
day and night
when I am in need of water.
The sun is beaming
with different colors
of milk. I recite:
Dream is a real woman
through her resume
of perfections, a secret
hanging at her elongated
earlobe, saying, “I am here.
I am here!”
::
z.z. 11/21/05
[art by mark rothko]
《梦是一个真正的女人》
要是我梦见你在向
消失在翻滚云层中的
海鸥挥手致意
是不是说世界其实就是
当你和你的爱人
手挽着手步入
未知的夜色那一天
送给我的礼物?
你说
他将带来光明
点亮我们暗淡的日子
仰或我梦见的是血
从纯洁芬芳的莲花里
渗出,染红了
车的后座,好似母爱
燃烧成的火焰
是不是意味着智慧
诞生于此刻,而不是它时?
要不就是说爱
只会出现在血的
尽头?
我揉搓着丝绣的花朵
绣花的女人让我
无眠,她总是在我
想喝口水时
通报是
黑夜还是白天
太阳闪着
乳汁的
各种色彩。我念诵:
梦是一个真正的女人
读完她尽善尽美的履历
原来有个秘密就挂在她拉长的
耳垂,它说,‘我在这里。
我就在这里!’