DREAM IS A REAL WOMAN


If I dreamt of you waving
to the departing seagulls
disappearing into rolling clouds,
does it mean the world is a gift
I was given on the day
you and your love had ventured
into the unknown night
hand in hand, saying
“He will bring light
to our saddened days?”

Or if I dreamt of blood
coming out of Tara’s pure
scented utpala, soaking
the backseat with blazing
flames of mother-love,
does that mean the Mind
was born Here, not There?
Or does it mean Love
can only appear at the end
of Blood?

I tread the soft silk flowers
made by women who keep me
awake and informed
day and night
when I am in need of water.
The sun is beaming
with different colors
of milk. I recite:
Dream is a real woman
through her resume
of perfections, a secret
hanging at her elongated
earlobe, saying, “I am here.
I am here!”




::

z.z. 11/21/05
[art by mark rothko]


《梦是一个真正的女人》

要是我梦见你在向
消失在翻滚云层中的
海鸥挥手致意
是不是说世界其实就是
当你和你的爱人
手挽着手步入
未知的夜色那一天
送给我的礼物？
你说
他将带来光明
点亮我们暗淡的日子

仰或我梦见的是血
从纯洁芬芳的莲花里
渗出，染红了
车的后座，好似母爱
燃烧成的火焰
是不是意味着智慧
诞生于此刻，而不是它时？
要不就是说爱
只会出现在血的
尽头？

我揉搓着丝绣的花朵
绣花的女人让我
无眠，她总是在我
想喝口水时
通报是
黑夜还是白天
太阳闪着
乳汁的
各种色彩。我念诵：
梦是一个真正的女人
读完她尽善尽美的履历
原来有个秘密就挂在她拉长的
耳垂，它说，‘我在这里。
我就在这里！’