礼物--李立扬

拔出我手掌里的金属碎片
我父亲低声背诵着一个故事。
我看着他可爱的脸，没看刀片。
故事结束之前，他除掉了
我认为会让我死的银色的铁片。

我不能记起这个故事，
但仍能听见他的声音，一眼
黑水的井，一句祈祷文。
我回想起他的手，
温柔的两个量具
他贴到我脸上，
行为准则的火焰
他高扬在我头顶之上。

如果你进入那个下午
你就会想到你看见一个人
在一个男孩子的手掌里播种东西，
一滴银色的眼泪，一朵小小的火焰。
如果你跟随那个男孩
你就会到达这儿，
我正伏身在我妻子的右手上。

瞧，我如何修剪她的大拇指指甲
这样小心她感觉不到痛苦。
看着我取出这个尖碎片。
我父亲这样抓住我的手时
我七岁
我没有保留那个碎片
在我的手指和思想之间，
那会埋葬我的金属，
给它命名为小杀手，
矿石为我的心深入。
我没有揭开我的伤口，哭喊，
死神拜访这儿！
我做了一个孩子做到
当时他赠出什么东西保存。
我吻了我的父亲。
To pull the metal splinter from my palm
my father recited a story in a low voice.
I watched his lovely face and not the blade.
Before the story ended, he’d removed
the iron sliver I thought I’d die from.

I can’t remember the tale,
but hear his voice still, a well
of dark water, a prayer.
And I recall his hands,
two measures of tenderness
he laid against my face,
the flames of discipline
he raised above my head.

Had you entered that afternoon
you would have thought you saw a man
planting something in a boy’s palm,
a silver tear, a tiny flame.
Had you followed that boy
you would have arrived here,
where I bend over my wife’s right hand.

Look how I shave her thumbnail down
so carefully she feels no pain.
Watch as I lift the splinter out.
I was seven when my father
took my hand like this,
and I did not hold that shard
between my fingers and think,
Metal that will bury me,
christen it Little Assassin,
Ore Going Deep for My Heart.
And I did not lift up my wound and cry,
Death visited here!
I did what a child does
when he’s given something to keep.
I kissed my father.