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（为了纪念多年前一场轰轰烈烈的苦恋）
不得哭，潜别离；不得语，暗相思，两心之外无人知。
——白乐天
你终于抱剑倒下了 和衣倒在她长发如苔的石枕旁
不如归去的凄鸣应和着晚祷的钟声
小教堂藏经的密室里神父那呆滞的眼睛仍发着绿光
多少世纪了
地中海的咸涩没能风蚀那石屋的厚墙
外面的人传说他早已闭关成蛹了
每当维苏威火山爆发前夜
总有人目击维洛那上空有来历不明的物体盘旋
是你吗 罗密欧 驾着流星的弧线
(难道你就这样离开我 不给我些许满足?)
地中海的波光依然滟潋 柔媚一如当年
多少次你披着黑夜的斗篷 潜入那明枪暗箭的后院
(那种寻欢如今对谁去说)
为了一夜楼台之欢
你骑着西厢外冷硬似铁的墙头 满肩落月的清瘦
我为你的身体担忧
你认定终身的遗憾是不能化着她的手套
抚摸那水密桃般的娇羞
夜夜你总在东方既白时才匆匆离去
终于应验了我预感的悲剧
一不小心 连人带马从一个斜坡跌入另一个维度
多少世纪后的今天
我仍要责备你 不该为了恋爱而迷恋上了爱情
女人 只不过是写在水上的名字
她不是手 不是脚 不是手臂 也不是脸
（镜花水月的事）
当她执着于爱情时就背叛了你
可你还是……罗密欧
罗密欧
你在那里是混迹于沙龙还是独钓寒江
是否还在月光下与影子比剑对饮
(据说那里的人只是一个平面 再非立体)
墨丘西欧归隐了 我已多年寻他不见
传闻他在深林的草舍 自残了声带 夜夜醉里扶剑
当年我们聚饮斗剑的馆肆已是无人问津的文化遗址
锈迹斑斑的古街映衬着座座新建的青年公寓
再也没人谈侠论剑 或者为荣誉冲冠
沙滩上总有黝黑的女郎赤条条地恣纵着日光
一群群吸食大麻的异装族骑着重金属 碾轧着
孤鸿与落日齐飞的风景
野花还会舞着你墓前的春风
秋霜依旧白着渡口的芦荻
而这已非你我的国度了
异度空间的黎明前 我是裹着破布的拐杖
倚着断垣听寒箫诠释满城的风雨
不再发誓 不再许愿
Romeo
（For the unrequited love in 1989）
Refrain from crying, you steal away;
No words for farewell, you hide your yearning,
Only two hearts will know what has been.
—— Bai Ju-yi the Sanguine
You’ve finally lain down,
Down with your sword
By the stone pillow where her hair grows like moss,
After so many years of bell tolls
The salty Mediterranean wind has not eroded the thick walls
Of the chapel where Friar’s self-reproaching eyes
Still grow green in the cuckoo’s mocks.
His lasting fast has not yet mummified him into a pupa,
Or at least such is the rumor during the vespers.
On every eve of Vesuvian eruption
There are always people identifying unidentified flying object lingering
Is that you Romeo on the arch of a meteor
(Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?)
Still dazzling and enchanting are the Mediterranean waves
But no more is there moonlight in courtyard.
You’ve overdrawn too many dawns for those balcony dates,
You waded across the cool water of life and death
And you straddled the starlit parapet
You bade her good-night for the one-night stand till the daybreak.
Then, a small slip of the hooves, a stumble beside the river of reflected stars
Collaborated my vision of an unfathomable depth.
But how can a man reproach another man for his love for loving?
What do men do to feel living, then?
You have not learned, you have not learned yet
A goddess or a woman
Is but a touch-me-not in a mirror, a forget-me-not upon water
Neither a hand nor a foot
Not any part belonging to a man.
When she persists in love, she betrays you
But you are still Romeo, Romeo
(How can a man begrudge another man’s love for loving?
But to whom could I tell
About our ancient ways of merry-making?)
What season is it there?
Are you fishing in a frozen lake or sword-fighting with a drunken moon?
Mercutio’s gone, long into hermitage, vocal cord damaged.
For many years, I have been tracing him but in vain
He must be a real grave man now
And the tavern where we’d roistered and fought is now a cultural site
Well-preserved but desolate
The rusty street is stained with modern hostels
The beach crowded with swarthy women, naked and bony
And bizarre creatures sucking marijuana, riding heavy metals
They’ve crushed the last scenery with a lone roc and the setting sun
Last night, outside the city gate
An old monk committed hara-kiri with a split bamboo flute
The cattail hassock sopped with blood
Romeo
After you’ve gone
This is no country for the young
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