From Ghosts City Sea by Wang Yin, translated by Andrea Lingenfelter

The Scent of Autumn

rain falls on my lips, spreads like disinfectant
across a newly poured asphalt road
cement railings turn pallid and dry
smoke from burning leaves and newspapers
the scent of bread drifts along the interior wall of a train car to me
the smells of heaven and hell are just like this, divided by the thinnest line
the scent of books, the smell of bookworms
a cat presses close to a furnace, smell of scorched skin and fur
ink stains on fingertips, rotten fruit peels in a bamboo basket
perfume flows past the embankment
suddenly darkened skies are vaporizing alcohol
bright and resilient, a spider web bridging the river quakes
a phone line connecting my city
the neighborhood’s heart saturated with the stench of coal gas
a rooftop shining with rain is the only letter that arrives
empty lane lit up by moonlight
autumn’s withered hair
falls quietly into the recesses of a drawer

2002

秋天的气味

雨水落到嘴唇上，仿佛消毒药水在蔓延
刚刚浇铸过的柏油马路
水泥护栏变得苍白干燥
焚烧树叶和报纸的烟雾
沿着车厢内壁飘浮的面包芳香迎面而来
地狱和天堂的气味就是这样只是一线之隔
书页的气味，蠹虫的气味
猫贴近火炉，皮毛烤焦的气味
手指上的墨痕，在竹篮里腐烂的水果皮
香水在河堤下流淌
骤暗的天空挥发着酒精
明亮而坚韧的蛛网颤抖着横过河道
一根电话线通向我的城市
社区的心脏弥漫着煤气的臭味
雨水照亮的屋顶是惟一的来信
空巷映照着月光
秋天凋落的头发
悄悄落到抽屉的深处
雨水落到嘴唇上，仿佛消毒药水在蔓延
刚刚浇铸过的柏油马路
水泥护栏变得苍白干燥
焚烧树叶和报纸的烟雾
沿着车厢内壁飘浮的面包芳香迎面而来
地狱和天堂的气味就是这样只是一线之隔
书页的气味，蠹虫的气味
猫贴近火炉，皮毛烤焦的气味
手指上的墨痕，在竹篮里腐烂的水果皮
香水在河堤下流淌
骤暗的天空挥发着酒精
明亮而坚韧的蛛网颤抖着横过河道
一根电话线通向我的城市
社区的心脏弥漫着煤气的臭味
雨水照亮的屋顶是惟一的来信
空巷映照着月光
秋天凋落的头发
悄悄落到抽屉的深处

2002