Old woman 

By Ken Fan 

Gingerly she pulls,

swaying from side to side.

Her frail back bends in a right angle.

This flatbed wagon

Is being wheeled among thick crowds

Ploddingly and carefully.

Those, in suits and heels,

Are leaping around, 

trying to stay away,

With occasional looks of repugnance.

Sweats on her face are

Dripping and pausing

Along those twisted wrinkles.

Exhausted, 

With a casual peek at the passing cute umbrellas,

What a difference among human beings!

So unjustified! 

And that she doesn't seem to realize. 

A young girl once,

Surely had some fancies once 

to meet a date under a pretty umbrella.

She might not know where her children are,

Or perhaps never had one,

Or equivalent to having none.

Only this heavy flatbed 

That stays with her day and night.

Doomed. 

Maybe today,

Or tomorrow,

She would collapse 

On this boisterous sidewalk.

Yet, those fine ladies and gentlemen, 

Cuddling and endearing,

Would step around

Or even jump over,

In such nimble steps

As if nothing is happening.

They lift their chins high,

already looking forward 

to another blissful gratification.

Note: an early evening on Hong Kong streets.

推车翁

文/ken

步履蹒跚

肩部摇晃着

背已经躬成九十度

这个平板车

在人缝中穿行 蠕动

西装裤的 高跟鞋的

在她前后左右 

躲闪 跳跃

不时一些厌恶的眼光…

脸上的汗珠

顺着弯曲的皱纹

淌淌 停停

已接近枯竭

瞅了一下头顶划过的小伞

却从没想过

世上为什么可以如此的不同

曾经也是个姑娘

一定想过打着花伞去应约…

儿女也不知去了何方

或从来就没有

或等于没有

只记得

只有这推了大半辈子板车

是她唯一的伴侣

也许今天

也许明天

就会倒在

这个喧嚣繁华的行人道上

那些挽着胳膊的男女

会绕了过去

或跳了过去

如此轻盈敏捷

若无其事

迫不及待地

去迎接下一场狂欢…

注：香港街头的某个黄昏。