Many kinds of insects
Only live in shadows, mints
Need just a small dose of light
In an ancient courtyard, the present and memories
Do not take turns to keep watch, in the air
The smell of grass is in fact
The smell of harvest, a window opens
Shadows preferred by hollow carving
Bring a stone lion back to life: hair wildly growing
Sharp claws curled, whose stillness
Holds the breath, like a confrontation in a negotiation
During which someone may leave to call in the bathroom
Nearby, a lady with sunken eyes looks down
On the world (who only likes earrings)
Night quickly comes, all black, no reflection
On the staircase, only dingy transactions
Take place, in the art museum
A spotlight seems to shine on one painting
(As if deadly fixed), a rat in the gutter
Runs in and out, as if to see whether it is day again
Dawn appears first on a branch
Where a few ordinary birds hide, at midday
A poet sits in the shade of a tree
Staring at the lit square because you cannot make out
The contours in dazzling light

注视

很多昆虫
只生活在暗影里，薄荷
只要小剂量的光
在古老的院子里，现在和
记忆并不轮值，空气中
青草的气息，其实是
收割的气息，有一扇窗子
会打开，镂空雕喜欢的阴影
会使石狮子复活：毛发疯长
利爪蜷缩，它的安静只是
一种屏息，犹如谈判中的对峙
中间会有人离开，去洗手间打电话
旁边，眼窝深陷的女人
目空一切（只喜欢吊坠）
夜晚很快来临，夜里全是黑的，没有倒影
只有楼梯道里昏暗的
交易在进行，美术馆里
有一盏射灯，仿佛永远照着一张画
（它被盯死了），老鼠在下水道
进进出出，仿佛在看天有没有亮
晨曦首先出现在树冠上
里面藏着几只寻常的鸟，而中午
诗人会坐在树荫下
注视着明亮的广场，因为
在强光下你会看不清轮廓