Coming into Beijing, 1997
for Moling
Don’t tell anyone this
But I feel as if I’m coming home
Grass browning, coal smoke drifting
In this even November sunlight
Concrete block buildings in all colors
Dark figures in narrow hutongs
With less than a little money to spend
They have been here for generations, sweeping
Everywhere the carefully planted trees
Tendered rows of elms, willows and locusts
Above them the flitting magpies and higher
Always the crows that have witnessed all
And all have come to this, like me
Stones and people from every province
Still able to be astonished
Still doing wrong or right in different directions
Did I arrive with the right currency?
And enough cigarettes for everyone?
Unlike the Hong Kong I’ve just left
My Chinese is better understood here
The familiar, differing warm expressions
Their all-day tea jars warming in the sun
In the shadow of another Mao talisman
Or any other remediable mistake
I enter the city writing this poem
That has become important to remember
Holding back tears the entire ride
A 30-km trip I used to bicycle every weekend
At every intersection hundreds of bicyclists
Negotiate past truckloads of cabbage
Testament to another government surplus
Distributed free to every work unit
The same traffic signs are still cautious
Saying the exact same thing to cyclists
And the working horses that have refused
To pay attention for centuries in their toil
Next morning I will watch early dancers
Face the rising sun at the pavilion
As if they’ve just jumped out of prison
Onto the back of a dragon vexing everywhere
Early next morning I will also pick up
A fallen gingko leaf, wipe off the dew with my fingers
And press it deep into my passport
So dear, where it will stay, where I am not
来到北京，1997
致莫玲
不要告诉任何人
但我觉得像回家了
草坪干黄，煤烟飘逸
在十一月平和的阳光里
五颜六色的水泥建筑
胡同里人影出入
他们手里钱财不多
世世代代在这里居住
四处整齐的树木垂抚
一行行温柔的榆树、柳树、槐树
树上喜鹊歌声处处
乌鸦在高处俯瞰万物
一切聚集在这里，包括我
从各省来的石头和人物
还是让人感到惊讶
还在朝着不同方向做事，无论对错
我来的时候带的钱币对吗？
够给大家买烟抽吗？
跟我刚离开的香港不同
在这里我的中文更能被听懂
熟悉的和不一样的温暖话语
他们的茶叶罐整日被晒在阳光下
汽车里挂着毛泽东的头像
或者其他的喜庆物件作幸运符
我来到这座城市写下这诗
重要的是要记住
忍住眼泪踏上旅程
曾经每个周末30公里的自行车骑行
每个路口成百上千的骑车人
在装满白菜的卡车中穿行
给每个工作单位免费发送
国家富裕的又一个证明
红绿灯还是那么小心翼翼
对骑车人表达着同样的意义
然后马车还是几十年如一日
对红绿灯这东西不睬不理
第二天我要看晨练的人们
围着凉亭面朝升起的太阳
就像他们刚刚跳出监狱
跃上龙背，满腹惆怅
第二天早上我还要拾起
一片飘落的银杏叶，用手指擦去露水
紧紧地按在我的护照上
那样的珍贵，就那样粘在那里，而我却不能
……
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