蝴蝶是它,用一生的梦,测量大海的深度。你远逝的波痕,去了就不会再回来,我摇晃着身体,等待霞光退去。思念如离别一样长久。我在斗室里运送动词、名词,也运载虚词和形容词,不知疲倦。从海上归来的老渔夫,与粼粼的波光相映生辉。他赠我鱼骨,这被拔尽了羽毛的鸟,抱着时间挥霍,又在时间里凝固成霜。蝴蝶扇动着翅膀,故乡在哪里?你在血和夜色中种下庄稼,种下满园子的植物。 Butterfly is it, with the dream of life, measuring the depths of the sea. You pass the marks, gone will not come back, I shake the body, waiting for Rays receded. Missing as long as farewell. I delivered verbs and nouns in my cubicle, carrying words and adjectives, indefatigably. Returned from the sea, the old fisherman, sparkling with the sparkling light. He gave me a fishbone, which was unplugged feathers bird, holding time squandered, and in the time the solidified into a frost. Butterflies flapping their wings, where is hometown? You planted your crops in blood and in the darkness, planted the plants of the garden.