路想起壹個人（組詩）
路想起壹個人，和天氣壹起想
他的遠行將是壹場故事，被埃塵追隨和湮滅
他企圖在孤獨、厭倦和思念中
找出壹個更為充分的原因
流浪的貓在遠處凝望他
比所有理由更為可靠
“晚星帶回了
曙光散布出去的壹切……”
而他卻背離古訓
回家變成了壹個巨大的空白，等待
他的填充
路想起壹個人
青春在異鄉被售罄，壯誌被沿途發散
壹顆心被遠方掏空，歸來的軀殼
又能如何
春天的水彩
光線在上空盤桓，色彩的豹子坐立不安
魅惑，並且危險
誰能鋪開山水的長卷
準備承受這喧囂於內心的風景
在壹只鳥雀輕輕的重量裏，涉世不深的羽毛
在更加稀薄的風中輕搖
平原在蔓延，壹朵花
說出光芒和芳香
童年
我睡在童年裏，甜蜜、安詳
時間從身上層層剝離，記憶
打開歲月的繭
多年前的老屋，午睡的帳子
細線串起的糖紙，在舊年的風裏輕晃
壹只蒼蠅闖進來，沈悶的午後明亮、慵倦
圍困了屋後的老杏和鳥聲
壹棵榆樹努力探出頭，張望
燕子斜著飛，擦拭天空
我是懵懂的，沒有珍惜
那些流逝的事物：花瓣的臉譜、蟲子的甲胄
布谷的淺唱，風彈奏青草和夕陽
親人們用愛砌起溫暖，時光帶走了太多面容
——夢鄉的出口總是感傷的，我醒來
衰老的身子，抱緊殘缺年華
眼看早年的風箏，在遺忘的風中
失去蹤影
小鎮
天氣把我們帶回了往昔的日子
妳的身子，在當年的時光裏婆娑
和那棵楊樹壹樣年輕
妳臉上的好氣色
是那個春天的壹部分
階梯在晴空下不斷攀升
潔凈，想象中的壹行白鷺
我們緊挨著，階梯讓我們產生
飛翔的沖動
小鎮那麽小，藏匿了太多的往事
壹些夢放飛了，壹些夢破滅
壹些人走出小鎮，故事漸漸湮滅
許多人老去了，只有妳
還年輕在記憶裏
在這個平常不過的天氣
妳指給我看——漫山的花開
蝴蝶雙飛，兩顆年輕的心……
作者簡介：
高亞斌，中國當代著名詩人、批評家。生於70年代，文學博士，在學術期刊上發表學術論文70余篇，有散文、詩歌近千首（篇）見於《中國詩人》《中國詩歌》《星星》《詩潮》《詩林》《詩選刊》《詩歌月刊》《揚子江詩刊》等刊。現在蘭州交通大學文學院任教。
[Gansu] Gao Yabin
The Road Thinks of a Person (group poems)
The road together with the weather thinks of a person
Whose journey will be a story followed by and covered under dusts
He tries to find in solitude, boredom and nostalgia
A more compelling reason
The stray cat staring at him from a distance
Is one more reliable than all the others
“Stars rising at night bring back
Everything that morning sunshine has spread out...”
But he deviates from the old saying
Returning home becomes a huge blank waiting
For him to fill
The road thinks of a person
Whose youth has been sold out on a foreign land, ambition scattered along the way
Heart hollowed out by the long journey. As for the returning body shell
What dose it mean?
Spring’s Watercolors
Light lingering overhead, and the panther of color fidgeting
Seductive, and dangerous
Who can completely spread the long roll of mountains and rivers
And is ready to bear the scenery boisterous in the heart
In the light weight of its body, a bird’s unworldly plumage
Sways gently in the wind much lighter
The plain is spreading, a flower
Speaks of light and fragrance
Childhood
I sleep in childhood, sweet and serene
Layer by layer time peels off my body, memory
Opens the cocoon of years
The old house of many years ago, the gauze curtain flowing around my nap
The candy paper linked together by thin string, swaying in the wind of the old days
A fly flying in, the bright, languorous and dull afternoon
The old apricot and the sounds of the birds surrounding the back yard of the house
An elm tree poking out its head and looking
Swallows flying sideways, wiping the sky
I was ignorant, did not cherish
Those things that have gone: the face of a petal, the armor of a worm
Cuckoo’ singing, wind playing with grass and sunset
Loved ones built up warmth with love, time took away too many faces
The exit of the hometown in dream is always sadness, I wake up
The old body, embracing the incomplete years
Seeing helplessly the kite of early age, in the wind of forgetting
Fly out of sight
The Small Town
The weather takes us back to the old days
Your body, whirling in them
Was as young as that poplar tree
The nice color of your face
Was part of that spring
The stair kept climbing under the clear sky
Clean were the egrets in imagination
We were closely next to each other, and the stair stirred up in us
The impulse to fly
Small as it is, the town hides so many stories
Some dreams fly away, some burst out
Some people walk out, and stories fade away
Many people turn old, only you
Still young in memory
In this unremarkable weather
You show me flowers blooming all over the mountain
Two butterflies, two young hearts...
About the author:
A famous contemporary Chinese poet and critic and a doctor of literature, Gao Yabin was Born in the 1970s, and he has published more than 70 academic papers in academic journals, nearly one thousand essays and poems on Chinese Poets, Chinese Poetry, Stars, Poetry Tide, Poetry Forest, Selected Poems, Poetry Monthly, Yangtze River Poetry Journal, etc. He now teaches at the School of Arts, Lanzhou Jiaotong University.