高山流水

过去用中文写诗，虽无人喝彩，自己默默的交了诗这朋友就好。忽有一天诗不吃香了， 虽不见得那么现实，确实是需要太多时间给外文，只好疏远了老友。然后，越来越发觉外文的乏味，回过头，老友已远走。所以说，不安现状的人总是在选择明明知道不是最好的东西。不是有一种说法叫体验吗？不体验怎知道英文诗对我来说会永远乏味。在然后，便写了这种夹缝中的英文诗。自娱自勉！

Iced Lake

You wish, something could break the silence
You allow the feet to step on the iced surface
Under the surface,
the lake used to water you in many of the thirsty dawn
You notice, the forest ahead is pale,
and sleepers rotten at the bottom
Such a shabby scene that saddens you
It is hard to tell your blue apart from the surrounding hush
You suddenly realize
You may be the only bird left, half alive
The other half, you used to believe, is a strong wing
Yet the iced lake seems to teach you,
either drown in water or suffer above
You never choose alone but being chosen
In the end, you still wish
the iced cruelty was not the lake that waterd you
When you were first born to fly away

--period--