250224 青空 Blue Horizon

250224 青空 Blue Horizon

散落在蜿蜒的道路上
青蓝似墨，记忆晕开了手写信
沾上满手模糊的痕

所谓真理大概是
荒谬接连不断
快要三十
才发现一辈子撇错了笔顺
写著看似正常的字

总是
跳著三步错一步对的探戈
摀著灰烬死命地吹
以为尚未燃尽
火光却仅闪烁著回应

我不知自己为何于此
期待著世界会听见
一遍又一遍
唱著传不进耳里的歌

250224 Blue Horizon

Scattered on winding roads,
Blued like ink, memory bleeds into handwritten letters,
Staining my hands with blurred traces.

What’s called truth, perhaps,
Is absurdity piling endlessly,
Nearing thirty,
Only then realizing a lifetime of strokes in the wrong order,
Writing words that seem normal.

Always
Dancing a tango, three steps wrong, one step right,
Clutching ashes, blowing desperately,
Thinking the embers still burn,
Yet the firelight only flickers in reply.

I don’t know why I’m here,
Hoping the world might hear,
Over and over again,
Singing a song that never reaches my ears.