WEBVTT

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"Night approaching
perfection, I float

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amid languages, the brasses
in death's music full of ice.

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Who's up over the
crack in day singing?

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Water turns bitter,
blood flames pale,

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leaping like leopards
toward stars.

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To dream, you need a form.

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In the cold morning, an awakened
bird comes closer to truth

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as I and my poem sink together.

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February in the book, certain
movements and shadows."

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二月

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夜正趋于完美

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我在语言中漂流 死亡的乐器充满了冰

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谁在日子裂缝上歌唱 水变苦 火焰失血

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山猫般奔向星星

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必有一种形式才能做梦

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在早晨的寒冷中

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一只觉醒的鸟更接近真理

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而我和我的诗一起下沉

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书中的二月 某些动作与阴影