真空

夜深时我们向家疾行。陌生
让我们安静。我也看不到谁的
彼此之间的填充物，
一种泡泡，
我是说任意媒介（如果还有人愿意相信持久漂亮的参照物比如书签
比如落款的字体，
比如此致——
您的
永远地）
何时失踪。我同意你沉默是更巨大的
赠礼，更胜利的，远比辩论公平。

（省掉假设）

比相爱的下午更令人屈服，仍然
报复着束手无策的人。
这时我却要看看父亲的眼泪，看他如何感到悲伤
继而忠厚地撤退，作为归还，
或一次行军。

---

The vacuum

Late at night we rushed home. Strangeness
sat us in serenity. Neither could I see these fillings of whom,
in between,
a class of bubbles,
I’m talking about the time when, whatever medium (if anyone still trusts a glamorous reference that lasts long, e.g., a bookmark,
e.g., the font to inscribe,
e.g., Regards—
Yours,
For good and all)
went missing. I agree with you that silence is a greater
donation, more endearing, far more just than arguments.

(omitting hypotheses)

More conceivable than afternoons for those in love, despite of which
the helpless is being revenged.
Now I want to see my father’s tears, to see how he grieves,
and courteously retreats, as a return,
or as a marching.