来到床沿，颤抖的手指滑落

断开的连脉，错落杂乱的碎片

拚接、焊补着2023年疼痛的冬天

身披今生的恩情，隔空呐喊

父亲，我的父亲…

如烙印，如扑面的春风

不知来世，是否还能辩认出我们今生

的过往和朝夕相守？

                                    写于2023.12.12

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感谢简友Hellen Jin的翻译

To My Dearest Father

Coming to the edge of the bed,

trembling fingers slided and the bloodline seems broken ，

scattered and messy fragments patching together,

welding and repairing the painful winter of 2023.

Wearing the grace of this life,

I cry out from the sky to my father, my father...

Like imprints, like the gentle spring breeze,

I don't know the afterlife.

Can we still recognize our past and our commitment to this life day and night?

                              December 12, 2023