The Rain in November

By Cheng Lie

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ??For my father-in-law

It's like the sum of cold, the rain in November,
sadly touching thousands of winters, depressedly
throwing frost to death and loneliness,
and in an instant, stood in the strange midst of the world
to grasp the meaning of fate with a white flower.

On the sloping ground, in a courtyard house
the long shadow of a tree, as if the hermit behind the mirror
on the last night, it recounted goodbye
the moment of turning out of the hustle and bustle
the leaves were falling and returning to worldly dust.

This oblivion is attractive from the dead
it's like an invisible hourglass in desire
all prophecies come from the god of creation,
who configures the game of life and death
for the upcoming journey.

There is a blue night with the moon
staring at the most mature moment from the blind,
in the golden sewage ditch
moonlit slowly flows through the quiet place
to pick everything in a dreamland.

2016/ translated by Chen Zihong

十一月的雨

程烈

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ??為我的岳父

十一月的雨有如寒冷的總和，
黯然無聲地觸及一千個冬天，雨水
把霜霧投向一場死亡和孤獨，
然后在一個瞬間，站在世界的陌生當中
用一朵白花理解宿命。

坡地上，在四方形建筑當中
一棵樹伸得遠遠的影子仿佛鏡中的隱士
在最后的夜里，它在說告別
在退出喧囂轉(zhuǎn)身的瞬間
繁葉紛落，入土還俗。

這遺忘是死者的美
它好像欲望中看不見的沙漏
所有預言均來自造物之神，
為即將到來的遠行
布下生與死的棋局。

明月之上有藍色的夜
凝視著失明者最成熟的那一刻，
金色的污水河里
月光緩慢流過靜寂之地
將夢境中的一切采擷。

2016年