去年九月的一个晚上,我从一场令人怅惘的饭局回来,夜里失眠写了一首诗,诗里有一句话是:“而我只等待一辆天国的马车”。大约很多人的生活都或多或少是一种等待。等待一件事、一个人,甚至只是一句话、一次旅行、一个好天气。我想了想,还是我等待的天国的马车最好,因为它不求诸人,它是我和诗歌间的私事,是我和一个虚构天国间的想象性契约。为何写诗?有人说是为了纯粹的语言的欢乐。此言我以为深得诗歌三昧,但我也知道这 One night in September last year, I came back from a disappointing dinner and wrote a poem about sleepless nights. There is a saying in the poem: “And I just waited for a carriage in heaven.” About a lot of people’s lives are more or less a wait. Waiting for one thing, one person, or even just a word, a trip, a good weather. I thought for a moment, or the carriage of the kingdom I waited for best, for it did not beg for people, it was a private affair between me and poetry, an imaginary contract between me and a fictional heaven. Why write poetry? Some people say is for pure language joy. I think this verse won the poetry Samadhi, but I also know this