封城
我总是恍惚间梦见
老伊姆村
裁缝家的壁炉旁
被感染的跳蚤
藏在潮湿的衣服织线里
而我也无法忘记
那块歪斜的边界石头，
六个黑色洞孔里
溢满着用来清洗
受污染硬币的酒醋。
伊莫特与蹂棱德
我脑海里浮现着的
一对命运多舛的情人
分离在隔离区两边
无言的情话跨越河流
直到她再也没有出现。
再一次睡过去，
我又梦见
被流放的药叉
委托行云捎信
致他失落的妻子，
行云飞过大地
沿着牛和骆驼的踪迹
飞过项链般的溪流，
扇状尾巴的孔雀，彩色的大象，
草原和树丛绣织的床单，
雪峰，竹林，
瀑布和溪流，
飞鹤宽大的翅膀书写天空
和雨后闪亮的莲花，
空气，
清澈令人陶醉，稀奇，
沉重的旅程，有时候
必须慢慢久久地行走
Lockdown
by Simon Armitage
And I couldn’t escape the waking dream
of infected fleas
in the warp and weft of soggy cloth
by the tailor’s hearth
in ye olde Eyam.
Then couldn’t un-see
the Boundary Stone,
that cock-eyed with its six dark
thimbles brimming with vinegar wine
purging the plagued coins.
Which brought to mind the sorry story
of Emmott Syddall and Rowland Torre,
star-crossed lovers on either side
of the quarantine line
whose wordless courtship spanned the river
till she came no longer.
But slept again,
and dreamt this time
of the exiled yaksha sending word
to his lost wife on a passing cloud,
a cloud that followed an earthly map
of camel trails and cattle tracks,
streams like necklaces,
fan-tailed peacocks, painted elephants,
embroidered bedspreads
of meadows and hedges,
bamboo forests and snow-hatted peaks,
waterfalls, creeks,
the hieroglyphs of wide-winged cranes
and the glistening lotus flower after rain,
the air，
hypnotically see-through, rare,
the journey a ponderous one at times, long and slow
but necessarily so.
