有时候，玻璃独角兽会碎
但是祂的本质还在
那只角撞碎在地上，
破碎支离，折射着烛光——
在血肉模糊的身体上
闪耀着无畏的寂静
分崩离析，那沉醉中的时间
一口气吹过——。
蜡烛灭了，而碎渣仍闪耀着
空气虚掩着烟雾和废墟
唤醒那种沉溺，
又浇上些许棉花
有时候，玻璃独角兽会碎；
但是祂的本质还在。
Perhaps sometimes the glass unicorn shatters;
Yet, its essence remain unscathed.
Its horn crashes to the ground,
Sparkles and shatters, lucidly refracting candlelight—
Glistening in silence, fearless
Upon a blurred yet blank canvas of flesh,
Fragmented in disarray, time loses itself in these poignant reflections.
A breath wizzes by—.
The candle extinguishes, yet shattered remnants still glimmer,
The air veils a blend of smoke and ruins,
Reviving that is submerged,
Quietly veiled with a cascade of cotton.
Perhaps sometimes, the glass unicorn shatters;
Yet, its essence remain unscathed.
I lay upon the snow, staring into my own hands.
Candlelight refract onto my retina, remains of molten glass persist.
那只角撞碎在地上。破碎支离，折射着烛光——
在血肉模糊的身体上闪耀着无畏的寂静，又忽然分崩离析。
Wild, dramatic juxtapositions. Between the realistic, and the magical.
Sentiment—the fear thereof; Love—the unreasonable expectation thereof;
Driven towards what cannot be, still I live, not prosper, just live.
Just, a capricious yearning...
Among the ripples of time, nuances flicker and fade,
Each granule, a testament to relentless, inevitable decay.
Horizons beckon, as life's tapestry we read.
An enigma.