DREAM IS A REAL WOMAN


If I dreamt of you waving
to the departing seagulls
disappearing into rolling clouds,
does it mean the world is a gift
I was given on the day
you and your love had ventured
into the unknown night
hand in hand, saying
“He will bring light
to our saddened days?”

Or if I dreamt of blood
coming out of Tara’s pure
scented utpala, soaking
the backseat with blazing
flames of mother-love,
does that mean the Mind
was born Here, not There?
Or does it mean Love
can only appear at the end
of Blood?

I tread the soft silk flowers
made by women who keep me
awake and informed
day and night
when I am in need of water.
The sun is beaming
with different colors
of milk. I recite:
Dream is a real woman
through her resume
of perfections, a secret
hanging at her elongated
earlobe, saying, “I am here.
I am here!”




::

z.z. 11/21/05
[art by mark rothko]


《夢是一個真正的女人》

要是我夢見你在向
消失在翻滾雲層中的
海鷗揮手致意
是不是說世界其實就是
當你和你的愛人
手挽著手步入
未知的夜色那一天
送給我的禮物？
你說
他將帶來光明
點亮我們暗淡的日子

仰或我夢見的是血
從純潔芬芳的蓮花裏
滲出，染紅了
車的後座，好似母愛
燃燒成的火焰
是不是意味著智慧
誕生於此刻，而不是它時？
要不就是說愛
隻會出現在血的
盡頭？

我揉搓著絲繡的花朵
繡花的女人讓我
無眠，她總是在我
想喝口水時
通報是
黑夜還是白天
太陽閃著
乳汁的
各種色彩。我念誦：
夢是一個真正的女人
讀完她盡善盡美的履曆
原來有個秘密就掛在她拉長的
耳垂，它說，‘我在這裏。
我就在這裏！’