《水之诺》
我们曾用钢筋的笔，
在河流的皮肤上，
签下过掠夺的名字。
如今以手掌为舟，
捞起湖底锈蚀的月亮，
和所有沉没的道歉。
看啊——
沙漠的裂缝间，
绿芽正背诵古老的律法：
每一滴都是圆的，
像地球，
像轮回，
像归还时的手势
The Last Drop
They call you resource—
as if you were a ledger entry,
a column of numbers
waiting to be balanced.
But I remember
when you were song:
the gossip of mountain springs,
the throat of rain,
the way clouds wrote love letters
in cursive across the sky.
Now they measure your worth
in liters and droughts,
while pipes cough up rust,
and rivers grow tongues
too tired to beg.
Teach us again
how to kneel at your banks
and drink the world
through trembling hands.
