Immigrants

Ice hockey is being played either we are here or
Not. We chant and scream the name of
Our captain, as if our mother are
Pushing and having us born again on a plane

Heading to the west coast.
Elite players are making wall of gold nuggets
A season, and they sail boats in the
Off-season, accompanied by cute

Young girls. He SHOOTS and he SCORES.
The black round puck slithers beyond the goal line
And we celebrate with our hands in the air.
We are fathers now, but the referee rules

No goal for the color of the puck is
Brown – that was what the immigration officer
Whispered into my ear as well, “your pupils are
Brown,” – and to be honest with you,

It’s okay as long as our hair is
Black. A full moon hangs high in the sky.
Trailing the silvery reflection of steel rails, our frozen
Hands listen to the howling train –

Howling train / beyond the lofty cliff / two lines of Canadian geese / flying east
We can’t swim / across the Pacific Ocean / neither / can the train

Smoke billows from the chimneys, and yes,
All workers are now home under the same nightly sky. And this
White guy, George, is my neighbour. Looks like he is
Making some stir-fries tonight.

移民

冰上曲棍球是加拿大國技，無論我們在場
與否。我們狂熱地歡呼甚至喊叫
隊長的名字，猶如臨盆在即的母親
登上一輛飛住西岸的客機

重新把我們生下來。
出色的球員年薪如以金磚搭砌而成的
圍牆。在年青漂亮的
女郎陪同下他們揚帆出海。

「他──射球破門！」
黑色的塑膠球在冰上滑行，越過守門員，
然後我們高舉雙手熱烈慶祝。
我們已經是新一代的父親了，然而球證

判決進球不合法，理由是球的顏色變為
棕色──移民官也是這樣在我們的
耳邊囁嚅：「你瞳孔的顏色
是棕色。」──讓老實告訴你，

我不太在意，只要我們的頭髮
是黑色便行。這個晚上有圓月高掛
我們跟蹤路軌上銀灰色的微光，我們的手
聆聽火車的哀號──

火車的哀號／在懸崖之外／有兩行雁鳥／向東
我們無法／橫越廣闊的太平洋／火車也／無法

絲絲的輕煙從煙囪溢出。是的，
在這個黑沈沈的夜晚工人已經下班，而這個名
叫佐冶的老外是我的鄰居，看來他在弄點
中國小炒作為晚餐。

註：是為包括曾為北美興建鐵路的加拿大的華裔移民而寫