2020年的一场雪
文/齐凤艳
你盛开了，展开翅膀
在庚子年第四日的清晨
你的六个角，如六枚银针
刺痛了我，还有窗口的三角梅
你飞舞的姿态，多像一朵吐蕾的病毒
飘落成钻心的疼痛，以及胆怯的恐慌
雪越下越大，身子骨一片麻木
张开大嘴，吞噬苍白的雪花
麻木是说谎者的盾牌
贪婪却是卑鄙者的箴言
春暖花开时节，手持通行证的人
把自己的名字刻在没有墓志铭的墓碑上
A snow in 2020
By / Qi Fengyan
You, the snow, the white flowers in full bloom, spread your wings
And fly on the morning of the fourth day of the Year of Gengzi
Your six angles, like six silver needles
Hurt me and the bougainvillea on the window
Your flying posture is like a virus that unfolds buds
Bringing piercing pains and timid panics
The snow keeps falling, bodies become numb
Mouths are widely open, swallowing pale snowflakes
Numbness is the shield of a liar
Greed is the motto of the despicable
When spring comes, people with passes
Will carve their names on tombstones without epitaphs
齐凤艳，笔名静铃音，辽宁康平人，有散文、诗歌、文艺评论发表在各级报刊。
