詩人都在過自己的節日，

我在堆滿詩歌的辦公桌上，

把煙頭塞滿煙缸，把煙絲排成行，

一行一行地數落自己。

數到第五行的時候，被迫打住，

剛更換的靠椅格外生硬。

窗臺看出去的街上，堵得一塌糊涂，

我和城市同時胸悶、感到心慌，

我們都不愿意聲張。

粽子、黃酒以及府南河上的熱鬧，

與我們沒有關系。還是那個城市，

我在等待另一個城市的電話。盡量保持

節前的那種安靜。端午節應該肅穆，

一個詩人的忌日，所有的人卻快樂無比。

SOME DETAILS OF

THE DRAGON BOAT FESTIVAL

Each poet is celebrating his own holiday

Poems pile up on my desk

I try to stuff all cigarette ends into the ashtray

Arrange the cut tobacco into lines

I check each line，like checking myself

When I reach the fifth line，I get stuck

The new hard chair hurts my back

Outside the window，the street is jammed as hell

My city and I are experiencing shortness of breath

But we make no complaints

Zongzi，yellow wine，and the crowd over the Jinjiang River

Have nothing to do with us.The city is still that city

And I am still myself

Waiting for a call from another city

I try to keep the calmness that I had before the festival

The Dragon Boat Festival should be solemn

Because it is the anniversary of the death of a poet

But why，everybody is so happy？