Snow

By Zhang Dan

Through car window, I was watching the snow,
seemingly, white space between Chinese characters.
Beside those dark radicals as heart and hooked stroke,
They're talking without spoken words,
and waiting for a natter.
You remember the time when first learned to read.
Peeking at your parents' love letters,
Stories of Proverbs and Allusions 100, 
The Chronicles of Eastern Zhou Kingdoms for Children， 
The Bible Stories. 
The New Science 100,000 Whys.   
A reportage headlined Blue Moon & Red Sun 
from Juvennile's Literature
made your whole world distressed.
You wrote something in verse,
with hazy longing,  imitating, and preparing.
But mom ripped those lines to shreds,
They were snowed in the room.
Imagining that they are still there,
and you must be ashamed to read again.
It's like the shyness you feel inside,
when facing the snow.

                translated by Chen Zihong

雪

张丹

从车窗里看见雪，
如一片片汉字间的白。
在那些沉黑的弯钩或竖心边，
静默地谈论，
等候一次交流。
你想起了识字那两年。
偷看了爸爸妈妈年轻的信件，
一百个成语故事，
一本儿童版《东周列国志》，
《圣经故事》。
《新科学十万个为什么》。
《少年文艺》里一篇叫
《蓝月亮红太阳》的报告文学，
让你的整个生命都在难过。
你写出了一些分行，
朦胧的憧憬，模仿和准备。
妈妈撕掉又扬出它们时，
房间里也下着雪。
即使它们仍在，
你也必定羞于再看。
就像面对雪时，
内心的害羞。