再译一个，体会老美的父子之情。

一树碧无情

这是美国诗歌杂志今年七月号的头条，写的很浅显，不知道大家怎么看？
原文－－
Playing Dead
by Andrew Hudgins
Our father liked to play a game.
He played that he was dead.
He took his thick black glasses off
and stretched out on the bed.
He wouldn’t twitch and didn’t snore
or move in any way.
He didn’t even seem to breathe!
We asked, Are you okay?
We tickled fingers up and down
his huge, pink, stinky feet—
He didn’t move; he lay as still
as last year’s parakeet.
We pushed our fingers up his nose,
and wiggled them inside—
Next, we peeled his eyelids back.
Are you okay? we cried.
I really thought he might be dead
and not just playing possum,
because his eyeballs didn’t twitch
when I slid my tongue across ’em.
He’s dead, we sobbed—but to be sure,
I jabbed him in the jewels.
He rose, like Jesus, from the dead,
though I don’t think Jesus drools.
His right hand lashed both right and left.
His left hand clutched his scrotum.
And the words he yelled—I know damn well
I’m way too young to quote ’em.
译文－－
　死亡游戏
文/安德鲁•霍金斯
我们的父亲钟爱玩游戏
玩死的游戏
他摘下厚重的墨镜
在床上伸展肢体
他不再抽搐，鼾声停止
一动不动
甚至不再呼吸
我们询问，您还好吗？
我们上下拨弄他的手指
他充血的，散发臭味的大脚
他还是不动；静静地躺着
像一只经年的长尾鹦鹉
我们把手放在他的鼻子上
使劲挤压
接着，翻开他的眼睑
你还好吗？我们痛哭失声
真的，我想他可能死了
而且绝非装死
因为，我用舌头舔他的眼睛
他的眼球竟毫无反应
他死了，我们伤心啜泣
为了验证我们的感觉，我用宝石饰品
戳他的身体，他坐了起来，像耶酥重生
虽然我并不相信耶酥的鬼话
他的右手来回甩动
左手抓住阴囊
他大喊大叫，语言奇异
我太小，已无法记起

一树碧无情

玩字是故意省去的，为了不拖

一树碧无情

嗯，好，重新组织。　采纳