父亲已不能再给予我什么

文/雪松岩

父亲已不能再给予我什么

他的眼神保留着当年的坚定

一缕水烟就使得他形神飘忽

他不懂得今天节日的浪漫

豆大的字也不认识几个

他喜欢捡食饭桌上掉落的米粒

这一习惯自小起我就记着

他越是年老越是朴实可爱

而今数来，只剩下我给予他

比年少时他给予我的要多

很久以前他背着我上学

现在我背他感觉他又轻又小

我已经不再要求和约束他了

在菜地翻土是他唯一的快乐

整饬的菜畦露出几分眼熟

仿佛我的母亲从永息中苏醒过来

再一次为他整理水鞋和铁锹

My father can no longer give me anything.

By  Xue song yan

My father can no longer give me anything

His gaze retained the firmness of the past

A wisp of hookah made his appearance and spirit wander

He likes to pick up the rice grains that fall off the dining table

I have been remembering this habit since I was young

The older he gets, the more simple and cute he becomes

And so far, only I am left to give it to him

He gave me more than when I was young

A long time ago, he carried me to school behind his back

I no longer demand or restrain him

Turning the soil in the vegetable field is his only joy

The neat vegetable beds show a hint of familiarity

As if my mother had awakened from eternal rest

Arrange water shoes and shovel for him again