In spring， you dont have to talk to the crabapple;

let the rain do the talking.

White blossoms， like corners of drowsy eyes，

gaze skyward.

Strange icy droplets，

your fingers spread wide beneath the tree.

At the branchtips， condensing and falling，

is the rains incessant reply.

While with your umbrella， you open

many questions.

They cant be answered;

you dont understand that a flower doesnt wilt

from disappointment，

but naturally， furled by the wind.

Still， you immerse yourself in asking.

Springtime is misleading，

and you cant restrain your doubts.

If a dream is just a dream，

then whats lost remains lost.

You dont have to talk to the crabapple anymore;

the rain will do the talking.

As you return your umbrella this afternoon，

what ought to fall， has already fallen，

what is yet to emerge， is not yet emergent.

海棠

在春天，你不必與海棠說(shuō)話，

讓雨水去說(shuō)。

白色的海棠，似惺忪的眼角，

望向空中

陌生而冰冷的水滴

樹底下張開指頭的你。

在枝頭，凝結(jié)并且墜落的，

是雨水持續(xù)地回答，

而你有一把傘，打開了

諸多疑問。

解答不了，

你不懂一朵花的衰敗，

并不出自失望，

它自然而然，讓風(fēng)卷住。

你只是兀自沉浸其中。

春天難免讓人誤會(huì)，

你不能克制地提出疑慮。

如果一個(gè)夢(mèng)就像一個(gè)夢(mèng)，

失去的是否尚在失去之中。

你不必再與海棠說(shuō)話，

雨水會(huì)說(shuō)。

你歸還雨具的這個(gè)下午，

該落下的，已經(jīng)落了，

未生發(fā)的，尚不自發(fā)。

Wang Ruiyuan王瑞媛

Born in 1982， Wang is a lecturer at Hebei University of Science & Technology teaching drama， film history， and film analysis. She has a masters degree from Beijing Film Academy， and is a member of the Chinese Theater Literature Association. She writes poetry， fiction， screenplays， as well as film criticism. Her work has appeared in Poem Selection magazine， Popular Music magazine， and other publications.1C246758-E62C-4FB1-9C72-D681C5B36D75