沉靜的若爾蓋
文/翼華
騎馬走過若爾蓋草原
視野空闊。稀疏的草尖
撿不起半根狼毛的氣息
五月的風(fēng)是柔軟的
吹不走天空的那朵沉云
卻在我耳蝸的窄縫
隱隱傳來，狼王格林的嚎叫
又在撕裂的草葉上消失
失望是小木屋新生的霉斑
還有那把銹蝕的鐵鎖
我還是扔下帶來的肉干
揮一揮馬鞭，走出
那段揪心的童話
陽光照亮朵朵八瓣梅花
毛絨絨的蒲公英
像飛起的傘花
追逐著馬蹄，飄向遠(yuǎn)方
不必向曠野追問答案
風(fēng)會帶走所有未竟的呼喚
草原只留一幅剪影
落進(jìn)夕陽深處
2026年2月15日
The Quiet Zoigê
By Yi Hua
Riding across the Zoigê grassland,
the view stretches wide.
Sparse grass tips
cannot pick up even a trace of wolf fur.
The May wind is soft,
unable to blow away the heavy cloud in the sky.
Yet deep in the narrow crevice of my ear,
faintly comes the howl of Green, the wolf king,
only to vanish on the torn grass blades.
Disappointment is the fresh mildew on the log cabin,
and the rusted iron lock.
Still, I leave behind the dried meat I brought,
wave the whip, and walk out
of that heart-wrenching fairy tale.
Sunlight lights up clusters of eight-petaled plum blossoms.
Fluffy dandelions,
like rising parachutes,
chase the horse hooves, drifting far away.
No need to ask the wilderness for answers.
The wind will carry away all unspoken calls.
The grassland keeps only a silhouette,
falling deep into the setting sun.
February 15, 2026
