冬蚁颤动的翅膀期待着

The quivering wings of the winter ant

贫瘠冬季的结束。

wait for lean winter to end.

我爱你，以迟钝而迂腐的方式，

I love you in slow, dim-witted ways,

除了只言片语，几乎不说。

hardly speaking, one or two words only.

是什么促使我们各自隐秘地生活？

What caused us each to live hidden?

一道伤痕、那场风、某个字或母体。

A wound, the wind, a word, a parent.

有时候我们痴等，无助而笨拙，

Sometimes we wait in a helpless way,

既无身心的圆满也无释怀的愈合。

awkwardly, not whole and not healed.

当你我掩饰起伤痕，我们已经

When we hid the wound, we fell back

从人类退化成一种带壳的生命。

from a human to a shelled life.

此时我们感到了冬蚁坚硬的前胸，

Now we feel the ant’s hard chest,

它的甲壳，它那沉默的舌头。

the carapace, the silent tongue.

这必然就是蚂蚁的方式，

This must be the way of the ant,

冬日的蚂蚁，那些受到伤害而仍想

the winter ant, the way of those

存活下去的生物具有这样的方式：

who are wounded and want to live:

呼吸、感知他人、再加上等待。

to breathe, to sense another, and to wait.