迷蒙的灯光下，
大城市的屋屋屋，
屋前面的窗窗窗，
一个窗前的小孩子 ——
在黎明不久的时候。
街上都是车车车，
屋里都是墙墙墙。
隔着玻璃向外望，
许久许久都觉得心伤伤。
爸妈都去了做工。
把一屋的寂寞都锁在房里，锁在
我的心里， 我的喉里，我的眼里。
妈叫我要乖乖地不要哭。
二十五年后我依然
默默地独自对着窗。
现在该是拉帘的时候了。
我没有哭，只是眼前看得花。
华埠的灯光金钱般闪耀着，
华埠的冷风格外可怕，
华埠有埋没人性的雾，
华埠是漂流者的坟墓。
爸，你为什么要借钱送我出国？
妈，你为什么要催逼我出阁？
爸，你知道我没有博士的才干；
妈，你知道我没有天仙的漂亮。
爸，别羡慕人家的成熟；
妈，别赞美人家的荣华归宿。
爸，爱我，别爱人家的 。 。 。
妈，爱我，别爱人家的 。 。 。
爸，我找事找得苦，读书读不上；
妈，我没有勇气继续去承受人家的奚落。
爸，我只想做一个自己愿意做的人。
妈，让我自己找寻自己的对象。
我不愿意回去丢你们的面子，
我也不想再推人间的冰墙。
我没有好好地为自己活过，
却要自己来处决自己的生命。
窗窗窗上有许多孤单的人吗？
墙墙墙围不了都板街上的行人？
到底那边有多少人
要把这座冰墙推翻？
在这寂寞深锁的房中，
墙上还留下煤气灯的痕迹。
听说从前华侨把灯焰吹熄，
明天就可以永远不会起来。
让我轻轻地把窗帘拉下，
让我把煤气炉的管制扭开。
我不会留下使人伤心的字迹，
只希望眼泪干了才有人进来。
The house-house-house of big city,
The window-window-window at the front of a house,
In front of a window, a child ——
not long after the break of dawn.
Car-car-car on the street,
Wall-wall-wall in the house.
Through a separating glass, looking out
for a long-long time the heart feels sad-sad.
Dad and Mom have gone to work,
locked a house of loneliness in one room, lock in
my heart, my throat, my eyes.
Mom told me to be good, not to cry.
Twenty five years later, still I am
alone silently facing the window.
Now should be the time to pull down the shade.
I didn’t cry, but it was all blurry in front of my eyes.
Chinatown’s lights flashing like gold coins,
Chinatown’s cold wind is especially frightful,
Chinatown contains fog that buries humanities,
Chinatown is the grave of the wanderers.
Father, why did you borrow money to send me abroad?
Mother, why do you rush me to get married?
Father, you know I don’t have talent of a scholar;
Mother, you know I don’t have the beauty of a goddess.
Father, don’t admire the success of others.
Mother, don’t praise the splendid marriage of others.
Father, love me, don’t love others’ . . .
Mother, love me, don’t love others’ . . .
Father, I have a bitter time finding a job, unable to keep up with school.
Mother, I don’t have the courage to continue enduring the taunting of others.
Father, I just want to be the person I want to be.
Mother, let me find my own mate.
I wish not to return to cause your loss of face,
I too don’t want to push this wall of ice in life.
I have never been living well for myself,
yet I have to execute my own life.
Are there many lonesome people inside the window-window-window?
Would the walkers on DuPont Street be enclosed inside the wall-wall-wall?
Just how many people are there
wanting to overturn this wall of ice?
In this firmly locked room filled with loneliness,
smoke stains from the gas light still remain on the wall.
It was said overseas Chinese in the past blew out the flame,
so he won’t have to get up tomorrow.
Let me lightly pull down the shade.
Let me turn on the switch of the gas stove.
I will not leave a note causing heartache for others,
I just hope tears would dry out before someone enters.