The plum you're going to eat next summer
Author Gayle Brandeis recently released a poem The plum you’re going to eat next summer (link, image):
The plum you’re going to eat next summer
doesn’t exist yet; its potential
lives inside a tree you’ll never see
in an orchard you’ll never see, will be touched
by a certain number of water droplets
before it reaches you, by certain angles
of light, by a finite amount of bugs
and dust motes and hands
you’ll never know. The plum you are
going to eat next summer will gather
sugar, gather mass, will harden
at its center so it can soften toward
your mouth. The plum
you’re going to eat next
summer doesn’t know
you exist. The plum you are
going to eat next summer
is growing just for you.
There are no Chinese translations yet, so I made one:
你明年夏天要吃的李子
【美】盖尔·布兰迪斯
你明年夏天要吃的李子
还不存在:
它隐藏在一棵你永远不会看见的树上,
在一个你永远不会涉足的果园里。
你不会知道
它在来到你面前之前
被多少滴雨水滋润,
多少束晨光抚摸。
还有接触它的
虫螨、微尘和陌生的手指,
你全然不知。
你明年夏天要吃的李子
将积累糖分、积累营养,
内核逐渐坚硬
好在你的嘴里变得柔软。
你明年夏天要吃的李子
不知道你的存在。
你明年夏天要吃的李子
只为你而生长。