〈休書〉

去年秋天妳不告而別

院子裡的桂花差點跟我翻臉

從此不再圍著聽我說書

今年秋天，就連樑上未成年的燕子

索性也舉家遷出戶口

滿園的秋蟲黑著眼圈，嫌我

夜半的簫聲太淒涼

感動過了頭，老是搞得牠們精神耗弱

想起妳臨別前那席話應是別有深意

這一生妳不圖我什麼

粗茶淡飯裡自有瀟灑的生活

要我別常惦記著詩名

其實我又何嘗願意在行間字裡

計較意境，推敲字眼、平仄與乎聲韻

如同妳視我為知音而以身相委

我也從不抱怨三餐雷同的菜色
.
今晚，微涼的晚風穿透鏤空的紙窗

從莊子的秋水篇裡我帶回一些咳嗽和傷風

捻息煤油燈，才要寬衣入睡

院子裡就隱約迴盪起幽幽的琴音

推門出去，原來是一陣莫名秋雨

唉！多愁善感的詩人竟也難得糊塗

想起年來為妳新填的詞曲

獨自清唱時，有些尾韻我拉拉拉

始終拉不上去

想起妳喜歡在我醉酒時彈唱那首渭城曲

今夜秋雨浥濕輕塵，窗口的梧桐

丟給我僅賸的一片葉子

要我連夜替他向濕冷且病蟲害了的秋天

提前寫封休書

還說等初雪降臨

要學我一起過，簡單的生活

Divorce Letter

Last autumn, you left without a word,
The osmanthus in the yard almost turned against me,
No longer circling around to listen to my stories.
This autumn, even the young swallows in the rafters
Have decided to move away with their whole family.
The autumn insects in the garden, with dark circles under their eyes, resent
That the sound of my flute at midnight is too mournful,
Overwhelmed with emotion, they keep getting exhausted.
I remember your parting words must have had deeper meaning:
In this life, you expect nothing from me.
In simple meals, there’s a carefree life,
You want me not to dwell on poetic titles.
But do I truly wish to ponder the meanings,
To scrutinize the words, the tones, the rhythms,
Just as you regarded me as a confidant and entrusted yourself to me,
I never complained about the monotonous meals.
.

Tonight, the cool evening breeze penetrates the lacy paper window.
From Zhuangzi’s “Autumn Waters,” I brought back a cough and a cold.
Lighting the oil lamp, I prepare to loosen my clothes and sleep,
When faintly, the sound of a qin begins to echo in the yard.
Stepping outside, it turns out to be an inexplicable autumn rain.
Alas! The sentimental poet can be rarely muddled.
I recall the new lyrics and melodies I composed for you this year,
When singing alone, some of the endings I try to hold on to
Never seem to come together.
I remember how you liked to play and sing that song from Weicheng
When I was drunk.
Tonight, the autumn rain dampens the light dust, and the phoenix trees by the window
Throw me the last remaining leaf,
Asking me to write a divorce letter to the damp, cold, and pest-ridden autumn overnight,
Saying that when the first snow falls,
I should learn to live simply, just like I do.

19990909