Roaming somewhere in the universe
a clang from an anvil
or a hollow resonance from the woods
is yet to reach me
otherwise I might be able to tell you
in my last life
I was a blacksmith
or a woodpecker
a painter, or a flower
if only I could recall
the face of an evening sky
still wet on canvas
or a brilliant dewdrop
precariously rolling
and rolling
a trace of cloud
a whiff of air...
(1993, Chicago)
The Chinese version:
前生
鐵砧上的一個
叮噹
森林裡的一聲
空洞
正在宇宙某處晃蕩
不然
我也許能告訴你
前生
我是個鐵匠
或一隻啄木鳥
畫家,或一朵小花
如果我能記起
一個黃昏的臉色
在畫布上油漆未乾
或一顆晶瑩的朝露
仍在那裡滴溜溜地轉
一抹雲
一絲風…
Beautiful imagery, an innocent silence lies within your poem. Loved it! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a painter, or a flower if only I could recall the face of an evening sky still wet on canvas or a brilliant dewdrop precariously rolling and rolling Beautiful poetic lines my dear Poet William. to ny