Bei Dao - The old temple

古寺

消失的钟声
结成蛛网，在裂缝的柱子里
扩散成一圈圈年轮
没有记忆，石头
空蒙的山谷里传播回声的
石头，没有记忆
当小路绕开这里的时候
龙和怪鸟也飞走了
从房檐上带走喑哑的铃铛
荒草一年一度
生长，那么漠然
不在乎它们屈从的主人
是僧侣的布鞋，还是风
石碑残缺，上面的文字已经磨损
仿佛只有在一场大火之中
才能辨认，也许
会随着一道生者的目光
乌龟在泥土中复活
驮着沉重的秘密，爬出门槛


The old temple

The sound of bells has gone
Woven into cobwebs in the cracked pillars
Melt into many tree rings
No memories, stones
In the misty valley, echoing
Stones, no memories
As the track wandered here
Dragons and sacred birds flew away
Taking the mute chimes from the eaves
Weeds come back every year
Growing, so indifferent
Not caring to whom they bow
A monk sandal or the wind
A broken stela, its faded words
As if only a big fire
Could make them readable again, or perhaps
Under the gaze of an adept
The turtle in the mud would revive
Bearing its heavy secret, crawl across the door