四月

文/Ken

四月是文人的季节

满目都是鲜花和文字

好的 不好的

闹闹纷纷

反倒难写了

也有人说

四月是最残酷的季节

花动的画面

最能勾起苦苦的思念

温柔的细雨

骚动了万物

也加速了地下的腐蚀... 

想到白雪

刚刚覆盖着这片大地

也压低了那一排排平房

地下和地上没差别了

冰冻凝固了空间

也凝固了时间

一切是那么静

都盖住了...

April

By Ken Fan

April is for those literary men only. 

Overwhelmed with pretty flowers and verses, 

Some good, and some not so good. 

Crowded and noisy, 

Ever so hard for anymore inspiration. 

Others say, however, 

That April is the cruelest. 

Fresh blossom saddens further a meloncholic mind. 

A gentle breeze stirs up all livelihoods, 

Yet also quickens the decaying underground...

Recall that snow,

Just covered this vast land,

Weighing down those rows of humble shacks.

Nothing seemed different then, 

above or below the ground.

The chilly ice has frozen the space,

As well as the time.

All is quiet,

All is buried...