狼雕像
文/翼華
在離小木屋不遠的地方
高過草尖的位置
立著一尊狼的雕像
高昂的頭顱，仰望天空
瘋狂的野草漫過基座
風(fēng)從這里吹向曠野
夕陽沉落時
狼王格林悄悄靠近
風(fēng)，悄悄縮在八瓣梅的花蕊上
格林默默圍著雕像
一遍遍嗅著
時爾，舌尖輕輕舔著
雕像凝著它的孩子的骨血
藏著媽媽未干的淚
格林靜靜臥在雕像旁邊
夜色遮掩塵世
它和雕像一起昂首
望著夜空，晶亮的星辰
比它的眼睛還要寂寞
2026年2月23日
The Wolf Statue
By Yi Hua
Not far from the wooden cabin,
just above the tips of the grass,
stands a statue of a wolf.
Its head held high,
it gazes up at the sky.
Wild grass runs rampant over its base.
Wind blows from here toward the wilderness.
As the sun sinks low,
the wolf king Green approaches quietly.
The wind shrinks softly into the stamens of eight-petaled plum blossoms.
Green circles the statue in silence,
sniffing it again and again.
Now and then, its tongue gently licks.
The statue holds the bones and blood of its cub,
and hides the mother’s unshed tears.
Green lies quietly beside the statue.
Night shrouds the mortal world.
It raises its head together with the statue,
gazing at the bright stars in the night sky—
lonelier than its eyes.
February 23, 2026
