雪聲 （中譯Snow and Its Sound by 淺山76）

雪聲   （中譯Snow and Its Sound by 淺山76）

 

當琴弓剛剛觸碰到琴弦，雪花就開始飄落

依然寂靜，獨奏即將開始。

 

街道不記得自己的名字，

所有的窗戶都屏住呼吸，

盼著每一片雪花落下，

似乎為此刻排練了許久，

這等待漫長而充滿期待。

 

隨即，聲音傳來，是大提琴。

樹木想起來森林，

樹脂想起了樹液。

低沉的音符敲開了

一扇門，我從未察覺過的。

 

聲音並沒有向前走遠，

它沉入地下。

沉入地板，

沉入書本，

沉入漫長的冬日，這，在

內心深處積存已久了。

 

 

飄落的雪花無需計數，卻精準地掌握時間。

大提琴不急不緩。

 

音符之間，當寂靜愈發的濃稠，

承載著的聲音無法傳達的一切。

每一次停頓都比音樂本身

更加令人專注地聆聽，

仿佛害怕這大提琴會在演奏結束前

戛然而止。

 

那些記憶啊。

 

寂靜卻不空虛。

它是柔軟的，

潔白的，

充滿被傾聽的渴望。

 

音符仍在飄落，

當琴弓抬起，

每一次拉奏都融化了一絲寂靜，

直到雪停，

雪花掛在

每一扇窗戶上。

 

一切並未結束。

隻是歸於安寧。

 

秦照於2026-1-30。 台南。

 

Snow and Its Sound

來源: 淺山76 於 2026-01-27 12:52:07

Snow and Its Sound

 

Snow falls the way a bow first touches a string.

No sound yet, announcing a melody of a solo.

 

The street forgets its name,

Windows hold their breath,

Each flake arrives,

as if it has been rehearsing for this moment

a long anticipating while.

 

The sound then came, a cello.

The tree remembers forests,

Resin remembers its sap.

And the low note opens

a door I didn’t quite know

there.

 

The sound does not travel forward,

It sinks.

Into floors,

Into books,

Into the long winter

stored behind the heart.

 

Falling snow keeps time without counting.

The cello refuses to hurry.

 

Silence thickens between the notes,

holding what the sound cannot carry.

Each pause listens harder,

than the music itself,

as if afraid the cello might stop

before it has finished

 

Memories.

 

Silence is not empty.

It is padded,

white,

listening.

 

The notes are keeping falling

When the bow lifts,

Each stroke melts a little silence

until the snow stops,

snowflakes hanging

on every house’s windows.

 

Nothing ends.

It only settles.