Tiny Hurricane(Translation) Poem by Perdita Young (Hanna Wang)

From "Lyrics of the Old Days 1"

Like a waterfall soundless, the spotlight
ripped through the stage.
She appeared, in the darkness, from the cave bright.

Whispered exclamations stirred and rippled,
and merged slowly into a breathy stream,
flowing with moderation in music soft.

He tried hard to restrain himself,
to hold back the voice from his singing heart.

He leaned forward, his left hand grasping the armrest,
his knuckles white hardly visible in the dim light,
his right hand holding an envelope moist from palm sweat.

No one noticed a tiny hurricane occurred,
upon which he fell body and mind,
carried away by whirls of wind
to a dreamland not knowing where…

He read in his heart the lines he'd written that afternoon,
not knowing that
she was to read the lyric in his letter
after twenty long years passed.

Feb.18,2012, poem by Liao-erh(了二) , translated by Perdita (Petite) .


微小的飓风

如同无声的瀑布，灯光洞穿了舞台。
在黑暗中那个灿烂的洞穴，她出现了。
这时，轻轻的惊叹此起彼伏，
慢慢汇成一条气声的溪流，
在轻柔的音乐中有节制地流淌。
你只能用力抑制住自己，
不让心里的那个声音跳出来。
你身体前倾，左手握住座椅的扶手，
如果这时有光线，应该能看见你发白的指关节。
你的右手握着一封信，
指间汗水的湿润几乎就要渗入信封。
没有人看见，这时起了微小的飓风，
你身心陷落，
随风而去，
梦里不知身是客。
你在心中默默念着下午写好的那首短章，
完全不知道，
她读到信里这首情诗，
是在20年后。