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万一你不来-零零贰壹陆(今天你是第二百一六次没来)
I spent my day on the scorching hot dust of the road.
Now, in the cool of the evening, I knock at the door of the inn. It is deserted and in ruins.
A grim ashath tree spreads its hungry clutching roots through the gaping fissures of the walks.
Days have been when wayfarers came here to wash their weary feet.
They spread their mats in the courtyard in the dim light of the early moon, and sat and talked of strange lands.
They woke refreshed in the morning when birds made them glad, and friendly flowers nodded their heats at them from the wayside.
But no lighted lamp awaited me when I came here.
The black smudges of smoke left by many a forgotten evening lamp stare, like blind eyes, from the wall.
Fireflies flit in the bush near the dried-up pond, and bamboo branches fling their shadows on the grass-grown path.
I am the guest of no one at the end of my day.
The long night is before me, and I am tired.
独宿
焦灼的路尘困扰我一天
晚凉的旧庙可敲门问缘
我心随着荡然漫入沉寂
菩提树似愁苦根贪残垣
曾有路客星宿洗去疲乏
在新月微光中席坐论谈
晨起时分他们精神恢复
鸟鸣欢悦花儿点首道边
而我来的时候没有灯盏
旧熏的黑迹像盲人怒眼
萤虫在涸池群草里闪烁
竹影在荒芜小径上摇玩
我独自做主来陪伴自己
在一天的最末向隅求暖
远来交谈的是漫漫长夜
可我懒与对句早已困倦
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