不必送红玫瑰,也不必送丝滑的心。
我送你一枚洋葱。
一轮包在牛皮纸内的月亮。
它允诺光明,
就像小心褪却外衣的爱。
瞧。
它会像情人一样
用眼泪遮住你的视线。
它会把你变成一张
恍恍惚惚如悲伤的照片。
我将尽力做得现实一些。
不送爱的贺卡,也不发吻你的传真。
我送你一枚洋葱。
那辛辣一吻将始终附你双唇,
忠诚而又固执,
就像我们,
只要我们彼此拥有永不变心。
收下吧。
如果你喜欢,
它白金的葱圈就会收缩为一枚戒指。
直到生命终止。
它的气味将萦绕在你的指尖,
停留在你的刀上。
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.
Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a cute card or a kissogram.
I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.
Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.