[甘肃]高亚斌
路想起一个人（组诗）
路想起一个人，和天气一起想
他的远行将是一场故事，被埃尘追随和湮灭
他企图在孤独、厌倦和思念中
找出一个更为充分的原因
流浪的猫在远处凝望他
比所有理由更为可靠
“晚星带回了
曙光散布出去的一切……”
而他却背离古训
回家变成了一个巨大的空白，等待
他的填充
路想起一个人
青春在异乡被售罄，壮志被沿途发散
一颗心被远方掏空，归来的躯壳
又能如何
春天的水彩
光线在上空盘桓，色彩的豹子坐立不安
魅惑，并且危险
谁能铺开山水的长卷
准备承受这喧嚣于内心的风景
在一只鸟雀轻轻的重量里，涉世不深的羽毛
在更加稀薄的风中轻摇
平原在蔓延，一朵花
说出光芒和芳香
童年
我睡在童年里，甜蜜、安详
时间从身上层层剥离，记忆
打开岁月的茧
多年前的老屋，午睡的帐子
细线串起的糖纸，在旧年的风里轻晃
一只苍蝇闯进来，沉闷的午后明亮、慵倦
围困了屋后的老杏和鸟声
一棵榆树努力探出头，张望
燕子斜着飞，擦拭天空
我是懵懂的，没有珍惜
那些流逝的事物：花瓣的脸谱、虫子的甲胄
布谷的浅唱，风弹奏青草和夕阳
亲人们用爱砌起温暖，时光带走了太多面容
——梦乡的出口总是感伤的，我醒来
衰老的身子，抱紧残缺年华
眼看早年的风筝，在遗忘的风中
失去踪影
小镇
天气把我们带回了往昔的日子
你的身子，在当年的时光里婆娑
和那棵杨树一样年轻
你脸上的好气色
是那个春天的一部分
阶梯在晴空下不断攀升
洁净，想象中的一行白鹭
我们紧挨着，阶梯让我们产生
飞翔的冲动
小镇那么小，藏匿了太多的往事
一些梦放飞了，一些梦破灭
一些人走出小镇，故事渐渐湮灭
许多人老去了，只有你
还年轻在记忆里
在这个平常不过的天气
你指给我看——漫山的花开
蝴蝶双飞，两颗年轻的心……
作者简介：
高亚斌，中国当代著名诗人、批评家。生于70年代，文学博士，在学术期刊上发表学术论文70余篇，有散文、诗歌近千首（篇）见于《中国诗人》《中国诗歌》《星星》《诗潮》《诗林》《诗选刊》《诗歌月刊》《扬子江诗刊》等刊。现在兰州交通大学文学院任教。
[Gansu] Gao Yabin
The Road Thinks of a Person (group poems)
The road together with the weather thinks of a person
Whose journey will be a story followed by and covered under dusts
He tries to find in solitude, boredom and nostalgia
A more compelling reason
The stray cat staring at him from a distance
Is one more reliable than all the others
“Stars rising at night bring back
Everything that morning sunshine has spread out...”
But he deviates from the old saying
Returning home becomes a huge blank waiting
For him to fill
The road thinks of a person
Whose youth has been sold out on a foreign land, ambition scattered along the way
Heart hollowed out by the long journey. As for the returning body shell
What dose it mean?
Spring’s Watercolors
Light lingering overhead, and the panther of color fidgeting
Seductive, and dangerous
Who can completely spread the long roll of mountains and rivers
And is ready to bear the scenery boisterous in the heart
In the light weight of its body, a bird’s unworldly plumage
Sways gently in the wind much lighter
The plain is spreading, a flower
Speaks of light and fragrance
Childhood
I sleep in childhood, sweet and serene
Layer by layer time peels off my body, memory
Opens the cocoon of years
The old house of many years ago, the gauze curtain flowing around my nap
The candy paper linked together by thin string, swaying in the wind of the old days
A fly flying in, the bright, languorous and dull afternoon
The old apricot and the sounds of the birds surrounding the back yard of the house
An elm tree poking out its head and looking
Swallows flying sideways, wiping the sky
I was ignorant, did not cherish
Those things that have gone: the face of a petal, the armor of a worm
Cuckoo’ singing, wind playing with grass and sunset
Loved ones built up warmth with love, time took away too many faces
The exit of the hometown in dream is always sadness, I wake up
The old body, embracing the incomplete years
Seeing helplessly the kite of early age, in the wind of forgetting
Fly out of sight
The Small Town
The weather takes us back to the old days
Your body, whirling in them
Was as young as that poplar tree
The nice color of your face
Was part of that spring
The stair kept climbing under the clear sky
Clean were the egrets in imagination
We were closely next to each other, and the stair stirred up in us
The impulse to fly
Small as it is, the town hides so many stories
Some dreams fly away, some burst out
Some people walk out, and stories fade away
Many people turn old, only you
Still young in memory
In this unremarkable weather
You show me flowers blooming all over the mountain
Two butterflies, two young hearts...
About the author:
A famous contemporary Chinese poet and critic and a doctor of literature, Gao Yabin was Born in the 1970s, and he has published more than 70 academic papers in academic journals, nearly one thousand essays and poems on Chinese Poets, Chinese Poetry, Stars, Poetry Tide, Poetry Forest, Selected Poems, Poetry Monthly, Yangtze River Poetry Journal, etc. He now teaches at the School of Arts, Lanzhou Jiaotong University.
