毕加索吞噬女人

然后长出牛角。

你，魔法师，要把什么放在祭坛上？

你要饮自己的血，还是优雅地

切开别人的心脏？

宇宙是守恒的，

创造是残酷的。

诗是剖开喉咙时

清新的空气

没有人能一辈子这样过活

我只敢偶尔把手伸向火

Minotaur

Picasso devoured women

And grew his horns.

You, magician—

What will you put on the altar?

Will you drink your own blood

Or gracefully cut open 

Someone else’s heart?

The cosmic law of energy conservation

Defines the cruelty

Of creation.

Poetry is the fresh air

When you cut your throat open.

No one can live such a lifetime.

I can only reach out to the fire

Once in a while.

Written in October 2021, after seeing an exhibition of Picasso

Translated on September 9, 2026