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死亡的修辞学
枪声
吐出芥末的味道
我的头壳炸裂在树中
即结成石榴
在海中
即结成盐
唯有血的方程式未变
在最红的时刻
洒落
这是火的语言，酒，鲜花，精致的骨灰，俱是死亡的修辞学
我被害
我被创造为一新的形式
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THE RHETORIC OF DEATH
Gunshots
Spit out the tart smell of mustard.
My skull explodes:
In the trees,
It ripens into pomegranate.
In the sea,
It congeals into salt.
Only the blood formula remains unchanged
Sprinkled about
In the reddest hour.
This is the language of fire, wine, flowers,
an exquisite
burial urn------
all the rhetoric of death.
I was murdered
And created, a new form.
(Translated by Wai-Lim Yip)
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