黑巷

樊功生

跌跌撞撞

拐进了这个黑巷子

没个名

自然就不该有灯

踢到个啤酒瓶

翻了几个滚

流出了最后的沫沫  

到处是烟蒂

有的仍在偷偷地闪

还有小姐的花片片

溅满了深红色的番茄酱... 

醉汉斜歪在墙根

吹着小曲

破球鞋夹在脚趾间

随节奏摇摆

听到人来

又本能地哼起来：

-- Spare change please? 

-- Hey bro, lost your job? 

-- Ain't got no job, 

    I'm a poet, damn it！

-- What did you write? 

-- I write shit, 

    They all write shit.

    Soaked in urinals all day, 

    What do you expect? 

Back Alley 

By Ken Fan 

Stumbling 

Into this dark alley, 

Got no name, 

Hence entitled no lights.

Tripping on a beer bottle,

That rolls away on the ground, 

Spilling remaining foams.

Cigarette butts everywhere,

Some are still flashing.

Those indecent girlie pictures, 

All covered with red ketchup... 

A drunk man lie there 

sideways against wall,

Humming some obscure tune. 

A dirty shoe is hanging between toes, 

Swaying lazily. 

Sensing someone approaching, 

He raises his voice instinctly:

-- Spare change please? 

-- Hey bro, lost your job? 

-- Ain't got no job, 

    I'm a poet, damn it！

-- What did you write? 

-- I write shit, 

    They all write shit.

    Soaked in urinals all day, 

    What can you expect?