【自诗自译】诗 / 卢文丽

阳台的金属竿

晾晒过

孩童的衣衫

床单，褪色的校服

当小鸟们长大

振翅，晾竿一寸寸

放空。风常年扑打门

发出的动静不小

不知何时

画布垂悬于此

溪流、星群、幽蓝的梦

被日光驱动

像万花筒流转

她打量着它们

眼眸清亮

这是她体内

苏醒的少女

写下的彩色诗行

2026.8.12

Poem

The metal railings on the balcony

once held aloft

children’s garments,

bed sheets, faded school uniforms.

When the fledglings grew strong enough

to spread their wings and fly away,

the drying bars slowly emptied inch by inch.

Wind hammers the door all year round,

raising quite a racket.

Sometime unmarked,

a canvas hangs here now—

mountain brooks, clusters of stars, deep indigo dreams,

set in motion by sunlight,

swirling like a kaleidoscope.

She gazes upon these scenes,

her eyes clear and bright.

These are vivid verses penned

by the maiden reawakened deep within her soul.

August 12, 2026