As If Spring Truly Come | Museum-Quality Art Print

Only when the car passed
through the creatureless wasteland
did it become clear—
we had entered such a state:
gathering debris reeking of brine,
seed rot from a vanished spring,
birthing all forms of—
grave-like hollows,
glances sharp with nocturnal silence,
a kiss that would chill by dawn.
The bathroom radio plays through the night,
heard by none.
The heart pulses
like deep red larvae beneath the soil.
Within a dim skull,
a question, grand and irrevocable:
Should spring be crafted for humankind,
virginal and idiotic?
Only when the car
crossed that lifeless terrain
did we emerge, naked,
from the woods.
A marked day—
to witness birth,
to watch you die like ash.
A day of rest.
Of sanctity. Of grief. Of renewal—
all moments where you are not.
Softly,
a promise made to oneself,
soft as if spring had truly come—
Should memory stir you again,
what fragile time
would the world then enter?

直到那辆车驶过无人的荒原
我们才发觉自己已然步入这样的境地：
捡拾带着重重腥味儿的漂浮物
曾在春日里腐烂的种子，所创造出。各式的——
坟墓般的土坑
夜中收敛至极的瞥视
和一个到早晨便会冰凉的吻
浴室的收音机彻夜播放，无人听晓
心脏搏动如地底深红虫卵
昏沉的脑袋里
一个重大又决绝的命题：
该为人类捏造一个处男般愚蠢的春天
直到那辆车驶过那些无动物的荒原
我们才赤身裸体地从森林中出来
特别之日——
见证新生儿的诞生和你火灰般的死亡
休息日。祝圣日。哀眠之日。生灵复苏之日——
都是没有你的种种片刻
轻轻地，轻轻允诺自己
如确切的春之到来
一旦我想起你
那会是万物怎样脆弱的时分