The provided text appears to be a creative or poetic passage with some nonsensical elements, mixing imagery and concepts. Below is the translation into English:
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Woolrich Arctic Parka, I slept at the source of a crevice in creamy moss; your wings to fly, crooked lips slightly parted as the floodwaters receded. I began to retrograde; sharp stones cut my skin, MAC makeup [possibly referring to cosmetics], I held back the pain and the rise of breathing feathers. Blind eyes sink to the bottom of my black arrow from your ears, after a few pieces of dark gray under the snow are drawn down into the body, shaking violently. I accidentally touched your blind eyes streaming with blood, the shadow of the night. I was drifting around the death of your stomach, cutting open the wound you are addicted to—the scales on the wings of your life to be a fish, a bird. To the last half of the wings from the side gills, he has a new name —— bird-fish.
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This translation attempts to preserve the surreal and fragmented nature of the original text while clarifying its structure for an English-speaking audience. If there are specific nuances or meanings intended in the original Chinese, further clarification may be needed.