黄裕邦现任教于香港教育学院英文系。除了学术研究外，他亦曾于香港及海外发表过短篇故事和诗歌。

Nicholas Y.B. Wong teaches at the Department of English of Hong Kong Institute of Education. Besides academic research, he has also published poems and short stories both locally and internationally.

忘了钟的时间

Timing

一个断臂的钟
县垂在月台的老天花板上
呆着  呆着

忽然  看见时间掠过
但无论钟怎喊着
怎歇斯底里
时间继续向前走
头也不回

钟想伸手去抱着他
但残缺的身体令自己在
搭客面前蒙羞了

钟很重情  没有忘掉时间
还记着薄荷凋谢前的一刻
和时间微湿的头髮
两鬓少了岁月的零星
却多少年代的余兴

时间没有错 
他只履行自己的使命
向前走  行过去
热切地期待下一秒的
喧闹  败坏  和质感

哀悼的尾班车离开月台
乘客也累得各自打盹
剩下开封了的汽水罐
一日鲜的报纸
没有自尊的烟蒂
和没人收留的回忆

路轨给火车的巨轮擦过
丁点的火花也是火花过
钟  黯然地惜别
时间  突然停下来
蓦然回首 
凝视着那副断肢的身躯
记起了一两次曾经
嘴里说了些没内容的话
像对旧情人咫尺的生疏
			

An amputated clock hangs onto 
an aged ceiling of the platform, 
spacing out, static.

Among the crowd, he catches a glimpse of 
Time passing by. However hard he screams, 
Time still moves on, without turning back.

Hungry for a touch, the clock wants to 
embrace the passant , but his disabled body humiliates 
himself in front of the blank-looking passengers. 

He remembers well. He still dwells upon the moistened 
hair of Time and the moment before the peppermint withers. 
Their sideburns are traits blemished by the epoch, 
but missing the residual felicity of age. 

Time couldn't be blamed. Dutifully on his mission: 
he steps forward, anticipating the loudness, depravity 
and texture brought by the next moment.

The last mourning train departs. Passengers nap in their 
imagined space, leaving trashes on the dusty cement. Unnoticed.
An opened soda can, the short-living newspaper, undignified 
cigarette butts, and memories no one wants to collect.

Rusty wheels of the trains caressing the rails. Even small
sparks illuminate, somehow. The clock farewells in despair. 
Time abruptly stops and looks back, gazing at the cripple. 
One or two stories reminisced, vacant words murmured, 
like a pair of old lovers caught in distant proximity.