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蝴蝶——纳博科夫
这些最小  最绚丽的洛丽塔
嘴里含着针一样的叫声
大气显微镜  远眺深藏起闪光的虎牙
 
        你胖了  口音还慢得像雪花
        擎着路灯那张古怪的采集网
        赴一个标本册的幽会
 
显微的激情扑向总被搓碎的
翅膀的草图  留在搬空的房间里
每个诗人身边翩翩流浪的塔玛拉*
 
        像白日梦舅舅掸下的粉末
        一只蝴蝶有时比劫难更难懂
        你  幸福的大叫和风格不是无辜的
 
翻动  锁在空中的射杀父亲的子弹
孵化成彩色课本  一场雪仍在下
死者们绕着青春的蕊
 
        而照片上的眼睛盯视最长的一刹那
        飞到天尽头一定不够
        得学书页  蜕掉一张人皮
 
才认出一枚卵精致的大爆炸
往昔是朵搂紧你的雏菊
塔玛拉  总带着树丛  微黑  轻弹双翼
 
        你珍爱的变形优雅叠加
        叼起世界  用一根针钉住的高
        虎啸  全不理睬记忆的聋哑
BUTTERFLY—NABOKOV
These smallest            most iridescent Lolitas
Held a needling scream inside their mouths 
The air a microscope looking over      the deep hidden glimmering tiger’s teeth
 
You’re getting fatter                accent still slow as snowflower
Holding high      the weird collecting net, the streetlamp
To make the tryst       in a specimen volume
 
A microscopic passion is always pouncing on sketches of wings    
Always twisted & broken      left behind in an emptied room
Next to every poet is a Tamara, dancing       flying
 
Like powder brushed off a daydream Uncle
A butterfly is sometimes more difficult to understand than a catastrophe
Your        blissful shouting & high style is not so innocent
 
Turn the page              the bullet heading straight for the father is locked in the air
And hatching     to become the colorful textbook       the same snow still falling
The dead in orbiting flutter      around the pistil of youth
 
And the eyes in the photos staring on the longest moment
It’s sure not enough to fly to the age of sky
You must learn to be the pages of a book       to molt the human skin
 
Then to recognize the exquisite cosmic explosion from a single egg
The past, a daisy that hugs you tightly
Tamara            always carries trees     lightly darker      tremulously beating wings
 
The transmutation you cherish           elegantly laid down in layers
Holding up the world in its mouth     nailed on high by a needle
A tiger roars                indifferent to deaf-mute memory