Before the Full Summer | Museum-Quality Art Print

When things that surge begin to dry,
crackling like flickers of fire ash,
fingertips reach—
toward fruits glowing with the gloss of life,
toward dry twigs that may become birdnests by midsummer,
toward the damp of our hair,
the hearts still pulsing.
—Or else, for the rains
that will die this summer.
You gaze at the birds resting,
sipping by the lakeside—
beaks brushing white feathers,
ripples catching glints of light—
Or now, let’s selfishly believe
they have already flown south.
Forgive me—
but I don't want those intense, abundant, colored days
to find us facing only walls,
flat as seas with no wind.
Let the mast splinter.
Let the mottled stern tip.
Let the compass on the table
rust endlessly,
like a star we cannot steer by.
When we walk through the wilderness
in the garden,
do not dream of the perfume
flowers might one day release.
Do not fixate
on the mud,
on the earth soon to swell with power.
Let us fall
—as silken cocoons in late winter—
entwined
before it ever begins.
O fast-closing summer,
I do not trust you.
Do not begin for me.
End for me.

当涌动的事物开始变得干燥
皲裂似明灭的火灰一般
我们的指腹就要开始接触一些闪烁着生命光泽的果蔬、一些将在这个夏日成为鸟巢的干枝
接触彼此的湿发和依旧跳动的心
——否则是为了那些即将死在这个夏日的雨期
你望向湖边歇憩饮水的一小群候鸟
一些喙轻啄在白羽和涟漪的波光之中——
或者现在，让我们自私地认为
它们已然南飞
抱歉
我不希望在那些激烈、充沛、色彩的日子里
我们仅仅整日面对海般无风的墙壁
就让我们的桅杆断裂
让斑驳的船尾倾斜
让桌上的罗盘永远充满恒星一般的铁锈味
当你我漫步于庭院中的荒野
不要痴迷于那些花朵未来开绽时泽泽芳馨的幻影
也不要凝视那些即将充满力量的泥巴、和土块
让我们失落下去
——失落如冬末的蝶蛹一般
在它来临之前作茧自缚
快曳的夏日啊
我并不信任你
不要为我开始
为我结束吧