列车站

列车又一次驶入了奶白色的车站。

有些人，慢慢地下车，恋恋不舍地看着
那湛蓝的车厢。
些许人牵着他们老伴的手，
好比这只是又一次出门散步。
更多人还是自己走着，
曾经明亮的目光现在寻找着出口。
有些人被一双无情的手推下了列车。
在短暂的呆滞后，疯狂的捶打着车门，
卑微地哭泣着。
还有一些人也被推下了列车，
但他们只是自嘲地笑了笑，
再回头看了一眼后就就走进了黑夜中。

但在另一边，又是一个截然不同的景象。

新生的婴儿，被一个个无形的天使
裹在了襁褓之中带上了列车。
被放在了他们家长的手中后，那些婴儿
第一次睁开了紧眯着的双眼。
不久后，阵阵宝宝的哭声充满了车厢，
但那些抱着他们的手臂仍不知疲倦的
摇着他们。好似抱着比纸还薄的玻璃一般，
小心翼翼的保护着他们的宝宝。

不过一会，门又关上了，
列车也再次开向了清晨。

 

The Train Station 

 

Again, we arrive at the baby white station.

On one side of the train, people depart.  
Some people walk off slowly, looking back
At the shallow blue train longingly.  
Few hold hands with their partners, 
Chitchatting as if it were just another walk;
Most stroll alone,
Turning their once bright eyes in search of an exit.  
Some shoved off.
And after a stunned moment, they bang fruitlessly
On the now-closed doors, pleading.  
Others, also shoved off, 
But they just laugh, self-deprecatingly, 
And walk slowly out the exit, into the night.  

But on the other side of the train, it is a different scene.  

Newborn babies, wrapped in tiny towels, 
are carried onto the train by thousands
of formless angels.
Handed into their parents’ waiting arms
their eyes open for the first time.  
Soon, the sound of millions of babies crying
fill the carriages.  But the arms still hold them, 
rocking them back and forth, as if holding 
ethereal glass, afraid to break their fragile features. 

A moment later, the doors close, 
And the train speeds off into a new dawn.