《海边咖啡馆札记》（英译）
The French window frames a salty blue
Wave crests shatter into sugar 霜 (frost), sprinkled on the latte's foam edge
As the siphon pot breathes in clouds,
You press a seashell into the menu—
"On page three, the tide is overflowing the cappuccino's milk bubbles"
Unsent addresses are carved into the wooden table
A seagull snatches half a poem, leaving "spring blossoms"
Oozing green from the brick cracks
When the sunset pickles shadows into amber
All the evenings quivering on cup rims
Tumble into the folds of the waves
Time here flows backward
At low tide, coffee beans sprout in the roaster
You say every wave is an unopened letter
And we sit in the folds of the sea
Waiting for seashells to grind the surf into
The soft ring of sugar cubes falling into cups