标本

都飞起来了

却只有她的小翅最为亮丽

飞来飘去

连花儿都伸长脖子

讨她的喜欢

难道只有她

才能把香粉送去更美好的地方？

天天忙着

做活  追逐  戏耍

突然

一张大网铺天而降

全被罩住了

一个刺耳的声音叫起：

-- 把那只漂亮的留下

其它的都放了吧

不敢再飞了

躲在花丛后面

那个恐怖声音还在继续：

-- 姐姐来教你做标本

先要尽快把它弄死

才能保持色彩鲜艳

然后扒开它的翅膀 压平

用小针从背部插入它的胸膛

再软化 风干

最后放入相框里

挂在客厅墙上

爸爸妈妈一定会喜欢的

嘻嘻... 

它是死亡的诗

多了一层假象

以为会永存

其实

仅仅成了神的玩物

Specimen 

All took off

Yet only her tiny wings look prettiest.

Flying around

Even flowers are reaching out to her.

Is it only her

Who could bring all the powder to a better place?

Everyday,

Working, chasing and playing...

Suddenly,

A giant net came down from sky,

All buried. 

A piercing voice yelled:

Just keep the pretty one,

And let go the others.

Dare not to fly again

All hide behind bushes, 

Yet that irritable voice continues:

Let me teach you, sis, 

how to make a pretty specimen. 

First to kill it as fast as possible, 

In order to keep the fresh colors.

Then spread out her wings, 

press them flat.

Thrust a needle from its back,

Soften it, and then air it dry. 

Finally, place it in a picture frame, 

Dad and mom will love it! 

Hei hei. 

It's a poem of death,

With a delusion. 

Presume an everlasting existence, 

Yet just a toy for the gods.